Lest We Forget
by Cyrell
Summary: *Seifer/Quistis* (Seiftis/Quiefer) Guilt runs deep in the consciences of the damned. When their memories might condemn them, is there no choice but to forget. Lest we trifle with the truth. Lest we forget. *Part 9 posted*
1. Deja Vu

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Everything here except the plot belongs to someone, and that someone is…*drum roll*… Squaresoft.  The lucky devils.

A/N: I'm new to writing fan fiction of any type, so please be nice.  I'm sorry if the characterisation is not up to scratch.  (Although in places the characters are meant to be unpredictable.)  Give it time and it'll hopefully improve over the next few chapters.  Oh and Seiftis fans…this one's for you.   

Lest We Forget

Chapter 1: Déjà vu 

"A remembrance of a memory already forgotten."

She woke gradually, painfully, with a matting of what felt like dried blood on the side of her head and eyes that didn't seem to want to open.  It was perhaps half a groggy minute more before she was conscious enough to realise that her eyes _were_ in fact open.  The darkness was simply a matter of her face being pressed too closely against what felt and smelt like leather.  It was soothingly warm and she was…she was _floating?_

Disorientated, it took a while longer to realise that someone was carrying her.  The strong arms cradling her frail body evoked feelings of security and belonging such that she had never experienced in her cold existence - Quistis Trepe, child prodigy and Balamb's youngest ex-instructor was an object of much admiration, but the detachment endowed by such an idealised position prevented many from knowing her personally, and those who did, had not loved her in the way she so desired.     

Drawing her face away from the warmth required considerable effort.  She was tired.  Her vision cleared, eyes reluctantly cooperating as she struggled to focus on the blurry face inches above her own.  _Square jaw.  Tanned skin.  Scar._  A relieved sigh left her lips.  Squall had saved her.  Squall always saved her, even attheorphanage.  She sunk back into the comforting warmth, letting it envelope her as she lost herself in her vague childhood memories where a dark haired boy always caught her when she fell.

***

They made a strange sight as they hurried through the plains surrounding Balamb Garden.  Stranger still as they were running deeper into the monster infested areas away from the secure confines of the Garden itself.  She needed its state-of-the-art medical facilities, but he knew they could not go back.  His arms were already beginning to ache from carrying her for so long.  Sweat dripped from his forehead, mingling with the drops of rain that were just starting to fall.  They needed to find shelter quickly.  She would not last long outside in her condition.  Neither would he for that matter.  

Plodding through the mud, he was interrupted by the welcome sight of a cave.  Cautiously approaching it, he discovered it to be dry and abandoned.  He kneeled and gently laid her down on the floor.  His trench coat was quickly bunched and slid under her head as a makeshift pillow.  

He stroked the stray blonde strands of hair away from her pale face.  _Hyne, she's pale_.  The wounds on her legs and arms had stopped bleeding, but the deep gash in her back still oozed vermilion.  Their frantic escape had reopened the wound, and he tried to staunch the flow of blood using torn pieces of cloth.  So far, he had been successful, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her, somewhere, somehow.        

Her eyes fluttered open, revealing sapphire blue orbs, and a moan tore itself from her clenched teeth.

"Squall?"  The tone was painfully hopeful.

"Is that my name?" he asked, hesitation and trepidation obvious in his voice no matter how hard he tried to hide it.  She might not have been fully awake and was probably calling out to some childhood sweetheart who she dreamt had saved her.

"What do you mean is that your name?  Stop playing around Squall," she uttered irritably, turning her face to look piercingly at him.  She gasped, shocked.  Even in the dim light, the figure kneeling beside her could never have been consciously mistaken for Squall.  Square jaw.  Tanned skin.  Scar.  And that was where the resemblance ended.  Blonde hair was never a Squall feature.  It was…

"Seifer," greeted Quistis coldly.  "What are you doing here?"  

She had quickly curbed her disappointment at not seeing Squall.  It was dangerous to show weakness to anyone, especially Seifer.  

"Saving you it would seem," he replied.  _Seifer.  So that's my name_.  For all of her ingratitude, she had provided him with a piece of his identity – a starting point.

"I didn't need your help," she bit out, careful to enunciate each word clearly.  Quistis tried to get up, but the pain drove her back down again.  Grimacing, she looked at the floor, refusing to meet Seifer's emerald gaze and the trademark smirk she was sure would grace his otherwise stony expression.  She braced herself for another wisecrack.

"Who am I?" he muttered, seemingly to himself.

The question took her by surprise.  She tore her gaze away from the floor and looked at him, amazed.  His brow was furrowed and he looked deep in thought.  

"Who are you?  You're Seifer Almasy, ex-Balamb SeeD cadet and head of the disciplinary committee, later traitor and Commander of Galbadian forces during the last war.  Otherwise known as the Sorceress' Lapdog," she sneered cattishly, at odds with her usually calm demeanour.  "After all you've done, you're finally having an identity crisis?"  She looked at his tortured expression and immediately regretted snapping at him so viciously.  "I'm sorry, no one, not even you deserved that."

"It's okay.  I take it I'm generally hated then.  So, Seifer Almasy, hmm…what did you - I do?" his tone was weary, resigned.

"You really don't remember?" she ventured, curious.

"Nothing.  I only have these images of blood and echoes of a woman's voice in my mind.  And…I…I just can't place them." The frustration was evident in his voice.

"Images of blood?" Quistis asked, unconsciously tilting her head slightly to one side.  "That pretty much sums up your entire life Seifer."  She was goading him, intending to provoke him into making a mistake and revealing his deception.  He had always been pretty volatile.  

"Yes, that is my life, because that's all I know of my brief existence at present, or until you choose to enlighten me, Instructor." he growled.   

"How did you know I was an instructor?" _Well, ex-instructor_, she added in her mind, satisfied that he had made the mistake.

"You bloody well act like one.  I've only known you for 3 hours and I already think you're a stuck-up prude," he yelled.  Then his anger abruptly dissipated.  "I keep having this feeling that I should know you, that I've known you for a long time, perhaps all my life."  He glanced at her questioningly and then suddenly grinned.  "And you were always so stuffy."

Quistis was torn between the desire to slap him and the urge to believe his sudden vulnerability.  _Hyne, this is probably the first and last time Seifer reveals his thoughts to me._  A sharp pain sliced through her mind, interrupting her thoughts.  Gingerly, she examined her injuries and quickly cast curaga on herself.  The minor wounds on her limbs healed rapidly, the skin stitched back together by the glowing blue light.  The gash in her back stopped bleeding, but was too deep to heal completely.  It would heal naturally with time.   

"Why didn't you cast curaga?" she demanded, annoyed.

"I didn't know how," his curt rejoinder brought them back to his present predicament.

No matter how much she wanted to believe that he had intentionally let her suffer, she knew it would get them nowhere.  "Thanks for helping me," she ground out, loathe, as she was to depend on anyone.  She quickly added, "This doesn't mean that I believe or trust you."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."  His infamous smirk accompanied this declaration. 

Quistis felt strangely cheered by this, as if she had long missed Seifer's familiar rapport.  She pushed the disturbing thought to the back of her mind, blaming it on his currently disconcerting behaviour.            

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Cave, northeast of Balamb Garden," he replied.  

"We'll just report in to the garden then.  Cid will help us." Quistis interjected, silently cursing herself for almost mentioning Squall. 

Seifer shook his head and continued evenly without missing a beat.  "We should be safe from any SeeD pursuers for tonight."

She stared aghast at him.  Was Seifer kidnapping her?  Her hand inched towards the chain whip that hung customarily from her belt.  His hand closed over hers and she hurriedly looked up at him.

"No, I'm not kidnapping you.  They're pursuing both of us.  You did something.  I saved you, free-of-charge.  Now we're both in trouble.  Maybe I should be the one saying thanks.  Who says you can't get something for nothing."

This was too much to handle at once.  Garden was after her?  Cid, Matron, Squall, Selphie, Irvine, Zell, even Rinoa were…?  This was probably a misunderstanding.  She would clear it up immediately.  She voiced her doubts to Seifer.

"You're welcome to return to the danger zone, Instructor, but don't expect me to haul your cute butt out of there."

Her hands itched to slap him, but she resolutely clenched them into fists at her side.  She wasn't going to allow Seifer to get to her.  

"Stop calling me Instructor.  It's Quistis.  Just Quistis."  Yes, _just_ Quistis was all she'd ever be to those who actually knew her - dull, boring, bossy Quistis, who was too mature and responsible for her own good.  As far as she could remember, she had been determined and focused.  She knew what she wanted from a young age – a SeeD career and love, but both had so far proved elusive.  No doubt she was a respected member of SeeD - regardless of Seifer's description of present events – and she had friends who had gone through time compression with her – but who were now against her – she knew she was far from satisfied.  She mentally shook herself.  These dark thoughts would scarcely help the already bleak situation.  

"Hey _Quistis_, you still with me?  You're not trying to communicate telepathically with Garden, are you?  It might blow that pretty head of yours."  

Yes, a very bleak situation indeed.  Stuck with a Seifer who possessed no guilt, but still showed signs of his resilient charm.  Amnesia or not, he was at his grating best.  "I'm going to take a walk," she mumbled out, bracing herself against the cave wall and shakily standing up. 

"Yes, why don't we all go and see the local flora and fauna," Seifer replied sarcastically.  "We might even provide dinner."

"Shut up Seifer!  I'm not asking you to come along.  Hyne, I thought people with amnesia were quiet and insecure," she angrily retorted, walking to the cave entrance.  

"Guess not, Instructor.  I'm going to sleep, so when you come back, try to keep it down."  He laid on the cave floor with his back towards her.  

_Glad to see some things never change._  Amnesia hadn't caused him to undergo a complete transformation.  She was hard-pressed to see whether it had changed him at all.  

Quistis checked that her chain whip was in its usual position next to her hip, within easy grasping distance in case of emergencies.  Too bad Seifer had not constituted one such emergency, well not yet anyway.  She glanced back longingly to where he slept so peacefully.  It must be nice to have no memories, to be free of life's sorrows.  

Stepping out into the cool night air, she wished she had borrowed his trench coat.  If nothing else, the disappearance of his favourite garment would have evoked quite a reaction.  Scouting the dark terrain for any monsters, she trudged wearily in the direction of Balamb Garden, in search of the truth for her sake and, although she would never admit it, for Seifer's.  

A shadowy figure trailed behind her, inconspicuous in the concealing darkness.  It noticed how the moonlight lent her blonde hair an otherworldly reddish tinge, like a halo of blood.  It quickened its pace.  The moon was full, but there were no stars that night.        

A/N: It's not what it seems, so don't jump to any conclusions just yet.             


	2. Memory Lane

Rating: R

Disclaimer: To claim and not to disclaim is hardly an option.  FFVIII and its respective characters, locations and other stuff belong to the one and only Squaresoft, makers of all things fun.  

A/N: Thanks to those who read Chapter 1, and a BIG thank you to all those wonderful people who reviewed.  I was worried that no one would read this fic since it came out of such a dreary mind.        

Lest We Forget

Chapter 2: Memory Lane

"A pleasant trip down Memory Lane is often anything but so."

Encased in mud and exuding an interesting smell that caused her nose to wrinkle in disgust, Quistis cautiously approached the beacon of light that illuminated half the night's sky.  Her trek through the plains had remained remarkably undisturbed, and it hadn't been long before the silence unnerved her.  She had realised a few moments after leaving the cave that Seifer's directions to the garden weren't entirely necessary.  Balamb Garden could hardly have been more conspicuous if it had a large neon sign saying 'X Marks the Spot' with a big arrow pointing downwards.  She questioned the wisdom of Garden announcing its presence so openly, but decided that anyone stupid enough to attack it probably deserved what they had coming to them.  

She crouched on the ground at the edge of the darkness.  Frowning, she observed the drastic changes to her home, unnoticed as the shadows concealed her from prying eyes.  The floodlights illuminating the perimeter and the alert sentry guards that replaced old sleepy Mr Wilson at the gate booths lent a hostile atmosphere to the place.  

_What's going on?  Did Galbadia Garden attack again?_  Quistis lurked dangerously closer to the gates, intent on identifying the frantic activities inside.   

Groups of SeeDs were running around, their officers striding purposefully, shouting out orders.  Every few minutes patrol squads would leave or check in.  Narrowing her eyes, she recognised the tactical formations they employed.

_Diamond, search and capture._  She wondered who the targets were, and more importantly, what they had done.  Hardly any threats to Garden remained after the Ultimecia ordeal.  Perhaps Seifer was right about Garden being after her.  She shook her head violently to rid herself of the thought.  It was all probably just a misunderstanding.  _But what if it's not_, the possibility hung in the air, too terrible to contemplate.  

Quistis timed the patrol squads and estimated that they checked in and out every 5 minutes.  She had an entry window between those intervals.  It was risky, but her SeeD uniform, although torn in places and no longer in pristine condition, would provide adequate camouflage.  Luckily it hadn't been shredded enough to reveal anything.  Lucky for Seifer too.  She grinned, the adrenaline rushing through her veins.  

She timed her run to coincide with the return of a patrol group.  

_3.  2.  1.  Let's go…at least the darkness would be good for something besides hiding those blasted holes in the ground.  _Jogging slightly behind them, head down, to any observers she appeared to be a straggler, intent on receiving a reprimand.        

***

Slipping, no _waltzing_ in through the _front _gates had required a bit of skill and a lot more luck.  _Hyne forbid, I'm becoming as cocky as Seifer_.  Garden's lapse in security had been opportune, but after this mess was cleared up, an urgent word with Cid about perimeter defence was necessary. 

Illuminated by a cold white light, most of the surrounding corridors were deserted.  She headed towards the elevator and pressed the button for the Headmaster's floor.  Nothing happened.  She glared at the button and viciously jabbed at it again.  Same result.  _Damn it!_  _Not good._  

She couldn't get Cid, so she would just have to find Squall or another friend instead.  First, a change of clothes was required.  The light had uncovered new, more embarrassing tears in her clothes, and her face had warmed at the thought of Seifer examining her.  Ducking into the corridor leading towards her room, she reassured herself that the stealth was only necessary for caution's sake.  It was always better to be on the safe side in case she actually was the target, although, and here Quistis smirked, Garden would probably never look for her here.        

Keeping near the corridor walls, she was ignored by the few SeeDs that dashed past her, fatalistically expecting the next one to be a Trepie.  Her footsteps echoed dangerously loud in the heavy silence.  Self-conscious and fearful of discovery, she unsuccessfully attempted to muffle them.               

_Finally!_  Quistis stopped in front of her room door, furtively checked that no one had followed her, and then quickly, almost frantically opened it and stepped through.  Quietly, she closed the door behind her, momentarily leaning her forehead against its cool surface.  Breathing a sigh of relief at having come this far without getting caught, she turned around, walking towards…

"Hello Quistis."

Her hand already grasped the chain whip as she spun to face the source of the unexpected greeting.  Forcing herself not to strike instinctively, she lowered her weapon and evenly acknowledged the intruder.  

"Rinoa," Quistis kept her voice flat, emotionless, betraying nothing.  _What is she doing here?_

The brunette sat on the edge of her bed, arms neatly folded on her lap, calmly watching Quistis. 

"I've been waiting for you to come," Rinoa replied, answering the unspoken question.     

Quistis kept silent, unsure of how to respond.  She still didn't know Rinoa's position in the scheme of things and antagonising her, especially if everyone else was indeed an enemy, was probably not a smart move.  Clearing her throat softly, she forced herself to speak.  "Things have been pretty rough lately."  

"For all of us."

The whispered reply hung suspended in the air, tension holding it upright.  Rinoa looked away from Quistis' questioning gaze.  She noticed that Rinoa had changed, gone was the carefree attitude, the ever-present smile.  Something had happened.       

"What's going on?" she ventured quietly, respectful of the loaded silence.

"You really don't remember?" Rinoa stared suspiciously at her for a moment, then nervously returned her gaze to the faded blue carpet.

It somehow reminded Quistis of her previous conversation with Seifer.  _Looks like both of us were left in the dark._  Things weren't turning out as expected and it made her feel vulnerable, inadequate.  She bitterly resented it.   

"No, I don't know anything!  Tell me Rinoa!  What have I _supposedly_ done?"  Her voice was rising with the escape of her pent-up frustration.  She paced around the room.  Rinoa was wearily studying her.  Quistis started at the flicker of _something_ in those dark eyes.

"You're lying.  You know what you've done."  Rinoa's statement left no room for argument.  "Why Quistis?"

Tap.  Tap.  Footsteps echoed from out in the corridor, gradually getting louder.  Quistis tensed, her glance darting rapidly from Rinoa to the door, but the footsteps faded abruptly away again.  She turned her attention back to the room's other occupant.

"Why should I lie?"  She tried to appear reasonable, but even to her it sounded desperate. 

"To appear innocent."  It was stated as a fact.  

"What would I gain?"  Suddenly, she dreaded Rinoa's answer, as the brunette's face grew more sombre. 

"Your life."  A death-sentence.  

"You know me Rinoa.  We're meant to be friends.  I wouldn't do anything irrational."  Emotionally pleading._  They would kill me?  My friends would watch me die?  Why doesn't she believe me?  _

"I don't feel like I know you anymore."  There, the confirmation Quistis had dreaded.  Her friends had turned against her.

"What did Seifer do?"  He had been involved.  Maybe, she would then be informed of her own crime.  

"He saved you."  Finally, a thing she already knew. 

"Something the rest of you wouldn't do."  Bitter, accusatory.

"In this case, no."  The reply was chillingly emotionless. 

"Why is this scenario so different from any other?"  Quistis still deserved to know what had happened.

"Because you tried to kill-"  Rinoa was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming open.  Strange, there had been no footsteps.  Framed in the doorway, was the man who always left Quistis short of breath and in possession of an accelerated heartbeat.  And for once, his piercing grey eyes were focused entirely on her…but for all the wrong reasons.            

"Squall?" she breathed out hesitantly, unsure of what he would say.

"What is she doing here?"  His question had been directed at Rinoa, but his stormy gaze remained fixed on Quistis.  She forced herself to remain impassive at his harsh tone.

"She says she doesn't remember anything."  Rinoa's tone was carefully neutral.

"Lies!  There were witnesses."  He waved his hands dismissively and stepped threateningly into the room, looming towards her.

"To what?" Quistis tightened her grip on the whip, still doubting whether she could bring herself to strike her friends…to strike him.  The situation was rapidly spinning out of her control. 

"To your crime, your betrayal, _traitor_!"  

Quistis hesitated, the condemnation acting like a physical blow to her gut, causing her breath to rush out all at once.  Her gaze flashed from Squall to Rinoa, catching the latter with her guard down.  The brunette's face betrayed a deep sadness and resignation.  She was cautiously watching Squall.   

"What did I do?"  Quistis asked once again, inching closer to the room's only glass window that was her last escape point.  Squall and Rinoa were standing between her and the door and he was relentlessly advancing in on her.  The time of decision was rapidly approaching - whether to hurt her friends or to run.  It might appear to be admitting her guilt, but-

"Something you will die for." –they already seemed convinced of that.  She could surrender or jump.  Either choice could lead to her death, but at least in one she still had a chance.  She readied herself to dive through the glass.  

"Stop!  What the hell do you think you're doing Quistis?"  Seifer's voice came from behind Squall.  The door had been left open and no one had noticed his silent entry.  Everyone had been too intent on Quistis and her almost-escape through the glass window.  

_Seifer followed me?_

Squall spun around to deal with the new threat, staring at Seifer with what Quistis could only assume was sheer hatred, but Hyperion was already drawn, and the blade held next to Squall's neck.  Quistis noticed that the gunblade was held awkwardly, almost as if he didn't know how to wield one.  

"Seifer," Squall hissed, apparently disgusted to see his long-time rival.  Rinoa moved towards them slowly, unwilling to elevate the already tense situation.  This confrontation scene had been coming for a long time – Squall, Seifer, Rinoa and herself, all running on intersecting paths.  And she thought humourlessly, it just had to happen in _her_ room.  _I hope the blood doesn't stain the carpet.  _It was bound to happen, this, that, everything._  Hyne is so cruel._  She wondered why things weren't affecting her more.  By rights, she should be screaming at Seifer to drop the gunblade, crying as Squall was in danger, and glaring at Rinoa for just being there and well, for stealing Squall away from her.  Yet, she felt_ nothing._    

"Quistis, get over here," he gestured towards her with his free hand.  Everyone watched as Hyperion shook precariously.  Squall nervously swallowed.

She stepped closer towards Seifer, keeping a large distance between Rinoa and herself.

"Please Seifer, let him go.  Don't do anything you'll regret," Rinoa pleaded as she followed the trio, backing out slowly from the room.  

They quickly approached the gates.                   

"You'll never get out of here alive," Squall yelled defiantly, gaining the attention of nearby SeeDs.  The party was soon encircled.

"That's why we need you."  Seifer moved the gunblade closer to Squall's neck, drawing a hiss from his hostage.  "No one step any closer!  Quistis, let's go."

She nodded in reply.  They inched towards the gates.  By then, the general alarm had been raised.  Zell and Selphie were standing next to the gate booths.  She recalled that they had gone on a mission to Esthar.  It had either been accomplished or whatever she had done must have warranted a callback for them.  Both appeared to have lost their bubbly enthusiasm and innocence.  Another thing she had never had, but she mourned its loss nonetheless.  A silvery glint of a gun barrel on a nearby overhang, announced the presence of Irvine.  The sniper probably had the cross-hair fixed unwaveringly on Seifer's head.  Or maybe her own.    __

_Trapped._  

"Give it up!  You have nowhere to run."__

_With friends as our captors, we hold our enemies dear.  What I wouldn't give to face Ultimecia again with all of them supporting me._

"Why Quisty, why?"  Why what, when she herself didn't know what she had done.  __

_How can I defend myself when I don't know the charges?_

"How could you Quisty?"  

What happened to innocent until proven guilty? 

"We thought you were our friend." 

_But I was.  I still am._

"You betrayed us." 

_You all turned your backs on me.  I would never have betrayed you.    _

"Traitor!"

_Just like Seifer._  

Tormented, she covered her ears with her hands, intent on blocking out the hurtful accusations. 

Seifer glanced at her, worried.  "Come on Quistis, pull yourself together."  He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the gate booths, keeping Squall all the while between him and Irvine.  He just hoped that they wouldn't shoot at Quistis.  His back was suddenly against the gate booth.  

"Quistis run!  Get away from here.  I'll meet up with you later."  He pushed her outside and she stumbled. 

"I can't leave you."  _He was asking her to sentence him to death._

"Just go!  They'll execute both of us if you stay."  

"But they'll kill you."  _Sacrificing himself?  He was taking her place.  And it wasn't his to take._

"Damn right we will!"  Squall muttered.

"Fuck you Squall."  Quistis felt torn.

"Yesterday afternoon.  I'll meet you back in time.  I promise.  Now leave!"  Seifer hoped she would get his reference to the cave.

Desperately gazing at him, she nodded, and disappeared into the darkness.      

"We'll hunt you down!"  Squall's threat cut through the night's silence as she ran desperately away from Balamb Garden for the second time in two days.     

Her mental anguish was unfathomable.  Blinking back the tears, she realised that dawn would soon be approaching.  What was the use, when her situation would remain the same in the morning.  Seifer had saved her and now she had condemned him to die.  __

_Why Quisty, why?_

_How could you Quisty?_

_Seifer thought I was his friend._

_And now I turn my back on him. _

_I am a traitor, just not in the way they think._

A/N:  Do footsteps go tap or thud?  Had some trouble with that - must be because I'm tone deaf.  And just to let you know, this isn't the end.  The next chapter might take some time though, since the holidays are finishing and I need to write a couple of essays.        


	3. Dreams

Rating: R

Disclaimer: What's mine?  The plot.  What's their's?  Everything else.  Is life unfair?  Yes.  

A/N: Wow, talk about feedback.  Sad-Dream and Ava Adore…I'll make note of the footsteps thing for future reference.  Zachere…thank you for pointing the stuff out, I'll go back and try to correct them.  Thanks to everyone else who reviewed and who are following this fic.  I'm sorry that this chapter took so long, the bane of my life – college, started up again.  Fanfic is so much more interesting than essays on the revenge tragedy genre.  Okay, notice the chapter title…the dream bits are all in italics.     

Lest We Forget

Chapter 3: Dreams

"In memories we remember our lives.  In dreams we live new ones."

Crashing through the undergrowth, hair dishevelled, clothes ripped to shreds, Quistis ran desperately towards the cave, towards safety, towards sanctuary.  Branches scratched and tore at her, etching a network of glaring red lines along her arms and legs.  She occasionally stumbled and fell, tangled roots ensnaring her feet.  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears and she blinked furiously, attempting to clear her blurry vision.  

_Why?_

The question rebounded inside the confines of her mind, echoing in time with her racing heartbeat.  

_Why?_

Her breath came in short pants, expelled between clenched teeth.  

_Why?_

Slipping and sliding, her feet pounded the muddy ground and Quistis frantically looked back, half-expecting to see the glint of a gun barrel or hear –

- The unmistakable staccato sound of gunshots punctuated the night's silence, leaving behind an eerie and unnatural calm.    

_What the hell?_

Quistis spun around, fearfully focusing on its source.  The gunshots had not been aimed at her.  They had come from Garden.  Filled with trepidation, she stared at the building in the distance.  Its beautiful and majestic facade hid the terrifying nightmare that it had initiated…that was still, currently unfolding.      

_Seifer!_

Quistis forced herself to turn around and continue running to the now visible cave.  She hoped that the gunshots meant he had escaped, but the darkness taunted her with its emptiness.  She was merely prolonging the inevitable.  Everything suddenly seemed so futile.  Death awaited her at every turn, playing a drawn out game of cat and mouse.    

The cave was exactly as she had left, but this time no sarcastic comment greeted her.  No smirk incensed her.  There was a noticeable void.  No Seifer.  Forced to confront the possibility of his death, Quistis collapsed to her knees on the cold, hard floor.

_He might have escaped.  Those gunshots…_

_…could have killed him._

_Why should I care?  He was a traitor anyway._

_Apparently so am I.  He couldn't remember the past._

_Does that make him innocent?_

_But he saved me and I…I killed him._

A treacherous tear escaped her left eye and meandered slowly down her cheek, trailing a solitary cold wet path.  Guilt and doubt overwhelmed her.  

_Squall accused me of killing someone else too.  Perhaps I really did kill them.  There were witnesses.   Maybe I just don't remember.  What if I don't want to?    _

Deep inside something snapped and waves of self-hatred assailed her.    

_Quistis, what happened to you?  Was it revenge for Squall loving Rinoa?  He never even looked at you.  You were nothing to him.  Now you're even worse than nothing._

The cruel voice in her mind continued to taunt her.  Quistis covered her ears, unconsciously rocking herself back and forth.  The voice was hers and yet she couldn't stop it.      

_How could you do this to me, Quistis?  Throw everything away – my friends, my home, my reputation.   Perhaps you resented not being reinstated as an instructor?  You lack leadership skills - a failed, mediocre instructor.  You know what?  You're just a joke. _

Slap.

She stared down at her palm in shock.  There would be a mirror image of it imprinted on her burning cheek.  The sharp pain partially restored her to her senses.  Most importantly, it had silenced the mocking voice.  Sheshook her head viciously, pulling back from the threshold of insanity.  The onslaught of dark emotions had consumed her entirely, making her irrational, unstable.  By now, tears were cascading down her cheeks and she curled up on the floor, her body wracked with great wrenching sobs.  Trembling like a wounded animal she laid there, until physically and mentally exhausted, her eyes slowly slipped shut.  

***

_It was the orphanage.  Home.  A building by the sea.  Children playing nearby, shouting and yelling.  She was 8-years old and very mature for her age.  Matron had told her so.  Quistis sat on the stone wall, idly swinging her legs.  The sun shone blindingly on the water.  Seifer hopped up on the wall beside her.  She ignored him.  He was always picking on Squall and Zell, and they were her friends, even though they were sometimes so childish.  Matron would get mad if she pushed him off the wall.  She momentarily wondered if he would shriek, then berated herself for being so immature.      _

_"Whatcha thinkin' about Quisty?"  He broke the awkward silence, emerald eyes looking at her curiously.  _

_"Don't call me that.  Only my friends call me that."  She wished he would get the hint and leave her alone.  This was supposed to be her special place where she could think about things.  Her friends often laughed at her and her dreams.  Then they would go back to playing tag.  They didn't understand.  No one did.  And here was Seifer, come to laugh at her again.  _

_"But we are friends."  He sounded sincere, unwilling to believe otherwise._

_"No, we're not Seifer."  Quistis stressed each word, making it brutally clear so that Seifer couldn't deny it.  She almost wished he would go back to tormenting Zell._

_"Fine.  Whatcha thinkin' about Quistis?"  Refusing to give up, he swung his legs in time with hers and nonchalantly picked up a few small stones from beside him, pieces broken off from the wall.   _

_"What I want to be when I grow up."  She glanced at him, and then returned her gaze to the water.    _

_"What?"  Seifer casually fingered a pebble and tossed it into the sea, calmly watching as it plunged into the bluish-green depths.       _

_"A SeeD instructor."  There, she had said it.  She prepared herself for the inevitable laughter that would follow.  Selphie, whose sole ambition was to be a party organiser, had told her to become a school teacher.  She had even gone and made a list of things Quistis needed to be…bossy (check)…smart (check)…serious (check).  Squall and Zell had laughed not only because she was a girl and girls, in their opinion, shouldn't become SeeDs, but also as she was their Quisty who could only hit as hard as a…girl (here they would usually burst out laughing).  If her friends laughed, then why would Seifer be any different?               _

_"I'm gonna be a knight so I can protect you."  Seifer had stood up, and was now balancing precariously on top of the wall.  He was looking at her earnestly.  _

_Shocked at his response, Quistis was for a moment, speechless.  No one had replied this way before, and she wondered suspiciously whether Seifer was playing a prank on her.  "I don't need you to save me.  Besides, I have Squall."  _

_"What can he do?"  Seifer's tone was mocking._

_"Once he saved me when I nearly drowned."  Truthfully, she barely remembered the incident.      _

_"Oh yeah?"  He sounded doubtful._

_"Yeah.  If I ever need a knight, I hope he becomes mine.  Goodbye Seifer."  She nimbly hopped off the wall, leaving Seifer standing there alone.  Matron stood waiting for her at the orphanage.  Her hand was firmly grasped, and she was led through the door.  _

***

_Quistis stepped into the Timber Broadcast Tower, suddenly feeling years older and among other things, a dominating sense of déjà vu.  She knew what was going to happen next.        _

_"Poor, poor boy."  Quistis glared at the ethereal woman drifting towards a wary Seifer.   _

_"Stay away from me."  He unconsciously took a step back, gunblade forced dangerously close to President Deling's throat.  Quistis remained in the shadows, unsure of whether to interfere.  Edea relentlessly continued to approach with arms outstretched.       _

_"Stay back."  Seifer gestured at her fearfully with his gunblade.    _

_"Don't be ashamed to ask for help.  You're only a little boy."  The hypnotically seductive quality of her voice masked the patronising words.   _

_"I'm not. Stop calling me a boy," Seifer retorted weakly, plainly losing the battle to stay in control.  The arm that held Hyperion hung limply at one side.  Deling was forgotten.  He had scampered off into the shadows, quickly escaping - a coward.      _

_"Seifer!"  Quistis cried out, seeking to break the spell.  No longer able to wait patiently as everything around her followed the script, she stepped forward, belatedly realising she had fulfilled her own role.  She raised her arms in defence, attempting to ward off what she knew Edea would do to her, but all the same, after one indiscernible motion directed towards her, she collapsed to the ground.  _

_"Come with me to a place of no return. Bid farewell to your childhood."  Ominous, Edea's words increased the well of dread building in Quistis.  Next, Seifer would step forward with a strange smile and then vanish with Edea into a wall.  And she would be trapped, still watching them, but able to do nothing._

_Seifer stepped towards Edea, with a strange smile on his face.  _

_Suddenly, Quistis was surprisingly able to move.  Things were different.  She approached the pair, intent on preventing the scene playing out in her mind.  Her whip lashed out, arcing towards Edea's back, but it hovered inches above it, suspended by an invisible force.  Abruptly, the whip end spontaneously combusted, magical flames dancing up along the whip length, sheathing it in coronal fire.  Quistis quickly dropped it.  She backed away slowly.  _

_Edea had yet to turn around.  _

_"Seifer.  Come on.  Let's go."  Quistis pleaded softly.  He was unresponsive, the small smile still plastered to his face._

_"Quistis, I offer you a choice.  Save either Squall or Seifer."  Edea raised her arms and Quistis was sent flying through the air, painfully colliding with a wall.  Edea's laughter echoed in her ears, but just before she blacked out, she heard someone murmur her name.     _

***

_Her eyes snapped open.  It was Balamb Garden all over again.  This time though, she watched from the overhang, cradling a sniper rifle with one finger gently caressing the trigger.  Shocked, she realised she was where Irvine had been.  _

_"Save either Squall or Seifer."  Edea's words continued to reverberate in her mind.  She reluctantly looked down at the gate booths, dreading what she knew she would see.      _

_Seifer shifted his grip on Hyperion and held it closer to Squall's neck.  They were surrounded.  There was no way out.  _

_Quistis tightened her hold on the rifle, its cold, black surface a reminder of the death it promised.  _

_It happened in slow motion, everything around them blurring out of focus.  Seifer drew the gunblade across Squall's neck, slowly, almost agonisingly so.  A line of red appeared, rapidly growing into a flood.  Blood seeped through the wound, dyeing the white fur collar crimson.  Squall gurgled incomprehensibly, clawing and struggling against his captor.  He slumped to the ground, weakly convulsing as Rinoa ran to his side, screaming.  _

_A gunshot rang out. _

_Seifer collapsed to his knees, more blood staining his grey trench coat.  He gazed forlornly at Quistis, emerald orbs locking with sapphire.  _

_Something inside her shattered.  She had unconsciously pulled the trigger.  She had killed him.  Not wanting Squall to be hurt anymore, she had killed him.  Now she had lost both of them.  _

_"You chose wrong."  The words were whispered softly into her mind. _

_No not traitor…something infinitely much worse than that…murderer._

_Seifer balefully stretched out his arm towards her, blood pouring from his head wound.  Strangely, a small, bittersweet smile traced his lips, and his expression, one of resigned understanding, was burnt forever into her memory.  _

***

Quistis started awake.  Sunlight was already filtering into the cave.  Immediately, she closed her eyes again, rapidly trying to sift through what was real and what was not, reality and illusion, memory and dream.  Everything had merged, without clear distinctions or pauses in between them.  It was too vivid to be simply a dream.  She had experienced emotions, had _lived_, but some of those things had never happened.  

_Save either Squall or Seifer._  Quistis shivered in remembrance.  She already had a flawed memory.  This dream hadn't made things any clearer, rather it had merely emphasised her guilt.  Images of Seifer's outstretched arm and expression resurfaced in her mind.  _That_ had definitely not happened.  

Slowly opening her eyes to welcome reality's banishment of her dream, she blinked and then recoiled in shock and horror.

An arm was still outstretched towards her.  Dream or reality?  

A/N: Any suggestions?  Hope it wasn't too confusing.  I know the first two dream sequences have probably already been done a million times, but please bear with me, it's an essential plot device.  The pace was slower than in the last chapter, but it should speed up again in the next one.  If someone can't remember the crime, are they still guilty?    


	4. Reality

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I have no money.  I have no fame.  I'm running out of ideas for a disclaimer.  I'm sorry if this one sounds lame.  Everything belongs to Squaresoft.  The thing vaguely resembling a plot is mine, and I forgot to mention earlier that the quotes at the beginning of each chapter are also mine.

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews.  You guys are the greatest.  This chapter was a bit rushed (throw in assessments, Attack of the Clones and annoying visitors, and you basically have my life for the past few weeks).  It's also relatively light hearted, so I hope you enjoy it (not that there's anything wrong with angst).     

Lest We Forget

Chapter 4: Reality

"From dreams we can escape, but reality confines us in a way no prison ever will."

Intruder.  Danger.

Alarmed, Quistis was already reaching for her whip before her sleep-befuddled senses identified who it was.  Reality filtered in, comprehension dawned and she gasped, amazement clearly etched across her features.  Grasping the outstretched arm, she used it as leverage to pull herself upright, before propelling into a bruised and bloodied Seifer.  He looked just about as presentable as she did.  There was an expression of concern on his face as he gazed at her.

_He's probably worried about the SeeDs chasing after us.  He's alive.  He actually survived. _  

Impulsively, she hugged him fiercely, then awkwardly stumbled backwards as embarrassed, she realised what she had just done.  

_This is Seifer remember?  Seifer – a wisecracking asshole, not a cute cuddly lovable blonde soft toy._

Her cheeks warmed and she stared resolutely at the floor, refusing to even look at him.  

_I'm still half-asleep.  It's all because of those dreams.  I hugged him because I was relieved that he wasn't dead, that I hadn't killed him.  Nothing more._

Forcing her racing heartbeat back under control, she swallowed nervously before glancing upwards and meeting Seifer's bemused gaze.  He didn't seem to have minded the hug at all.  

"You missed me."  It wasn't posed as a question.  Seifer's quiet comment was devastating in the heavy silence.  It immediately shattered Quistis' contrived calm demeanour, irrationally provoking her to go on the defensive.     

"No."  There was nothing left but damage control.  Amnesia or not, she knew she shouldn't have trusted Seifer to be nice or understanding.  Being a jerk seemed to come naturally to him.

"But you just hugged me."  The insufferable man seemed intent on pushing the point.   

"Muscle spasm.  Trust me, it won't happen again."  Mortified, she groaned inwardly and resisted the urge to slap her forehead in disgust.  Even to her own ears, the excuse sounded extremely feeble.  _Muscle spasm…yeah…what, in both arms?  Hah!  I should have pleaded temporary insanity, perhaps then it would have been true._             

"Oh…cause for a moment I thought you wouldn't mind me doing this."  Seifer leaned in and kissed her, far more gently than she ever dreamed him capable of.  Caught by surprise, she didn't respond for a moment.  Then stiffening, she placed both hands on his chest, trying to shove him away.  Absolutely futile.  All he did was wrap his arms tighter around her in an iron grip to restrain her struggle.  Breaking the kiss, he placed his cheek against hers and whispered haltingly into her ear,  "SeeDs followed me.  Watching.  Listening.  No time.  Need to escape.  Now."  Each word was enunciated clearly.  

Both were breathing heavily after the kiss.  Quistis stopped struggling and moved her face away from Seifer's so she could glare at him.  She ached to slap him, but her hands were still trapped beneath his arms.  Why was it that _only_ Seifer ever managed to make her feel powerless?  Last time, he had usurped her in her own classroom.  Recently, by saving her twice, he had relegated her to the position of damsel-in-distress, which was usually reserved for Rinoa.  The idea that she depended on someone made her feel inadequate.  The fact that that someone was Seifer, caused the frustration to truly well up.  And now he had kissed her against her will, not because he liked her, but so he could warn her without being noticed.  Seifer…practical?  This was surely a parallel universe.  

With a Herculean effort, Quistis drew her thoughts back to their current situation.  She was a professional for Hyne's sake.  According to Seifer, scouts were observing them, probably waiting for reinforcements before making a move.  Balamb Garden was after them.  Where could they go?  No place was safe.  She looked desperately at Seifer.  They were running out of time.  

_Come on, think!  First obstacle…SeeD perimeter net.  We have to break through it and run.  Easier said than done.  Balamb is the closest train station.  Where to then?_

The answer remained elusive.  Seifer's gaze was fixed firmly on her face, searching.  His eyes seemed to hide some inkling of suppressed emotion.  

_They could catch one to Timber and then head deeper into Galbadia – enemy territory._

Seifer – traitor and Commander of Galbadian forces during the last war…now, her only friend.

_With friends as our captors, we hold our enemies dear.  How much we have changed.  How far we have fallen.  _                                     

Emerald eyes locked with sapphire and Quistis understood that this was the only way.  Escape was not an option and for once, Seifer depended on her.  It made her feel back in control despite the circumstances.  She was no longer helpless or redundant.        

_Time to start repaying debts._

There was no turning back.

***

They had burst out of the cave to surprise any scouts and buy a few precious seconds before the pursuit began in earnest.  Seifer followed Quistis as she weaved through the undergrowth, darting past branches.  Twigs snapped under their feet as secrecy was abandoned in the greater need for haste.  They avoided the main path from Balamb Garden to Balamb where everything would be in plain sight.  The trees at least provided the barest protection from a sniper's bullet.  

_Just a little further._

Her breath came in short pants.

_Not much more to go._

Legs were like wood, heavy and unfeeling.

_SeeDs are coming closer._

She imagined the sound of motor engines drifting through the air.

_Will we ever escape?_

Were those footsteps behind them?

_Killed by friends…what a death._

Everything ached.

_A traitor has no honour._

Balamb was just ahead, but Seifer was no longer in sight.  Quistis whirled around, anxiety plainly written on her face.  Had SeeDs overtaken them?  She frantically glanced in the direction of the cave, but spun back as a twig snapped behind her.  Seifer stood there, casually leaning against a tree.  A smirk was plastered on his face and he idly fingered the remnants of a broken twig.  Throwing them to the side, he stepped towards her.  

Annoyed, Quistis looked questioningly at him.  "What the hell do-?"            

"Oh don't you ever shut up, Instructor?  SeeD doesn't even know where we are yet."  He stood inches from her.

"But you said…but-but the kiss," Quistis stammered, confused.  Irritated at herself for mentioning the kiss and sounding like a fool, she glared up at him, ironically challenging him to deny the incident at the cave that she herself tried so hard to forget.

"What I said was true - SeeDs followed me…but I lost them before reaching the cave.  Amateurs."  Seifer snorted.  "Oh well, I needed an excuse to kiss you."

Quistis paled, the blood draining rapidly from her face.  She looked like she was going to faint or throw up.  Seifer decided to take pity on her.

"Relax, it was just to shut you up.  You were going all defensive when I said you missed me.  Geez, some people can't take a joke."      

The slap came, and his face turned with it.  He knew he deserved the pain.  

Quistis was practically trembling with barely contained anger.  Resentment was too weak a term.  At times like this, she _hated_ him with a passion.  

Everything was still, a silent deceptive tableau.   

Bang!  A gunshot blew a nearby branch into tiny pieces.  Quistis started, another shot bit into a tree inches from her head, coating her with splinters.  Firing range had been achieved.  Caught up in their conflict, their pursuers had arrived undetected.  SeeD had found them.  Together they ran, hatred and resentment forgotten in the desire for survival.  

Balamb moved closer into sight.  

_20 metres._

A bullet whizzed past Seifer's head, leaving a stinging pain and a trickle of sticky warmth down one side of his neck.  Blood mingled with sweat.  It had clipped his ear.  

_10 metres._

They ran faster, so far keeping a step ahead as bullets hit the ground just behind them spraying up clouds of shrapnel and dust.

_5 metres._

Bullets ricocheted from a metal sign swinging above their heads.  The gunshots stopped abruptly, leaving an apprehensive silence as they entered Balamb.  Civilian lives, especially those of family, could not be risked by stray fire.  Garden's dispatched jeeps had not yet arrived.  Doors were locked and windows closed as frightened townsfolk rushed to the safety of their homes.  Balamb's pathways were now deserted, lending the impression of a ghost town.  It was a disturbing scene, one at odds to the normally peaceful seaside atmosphere.      

"SeeD will save us.  Squall's our hero.  He'll come."  A little blonde girl tugged desperately on her brother's hand, as they huddled in a dark street corner.     

Quistis, struck by a sense of déjà vu, unconsciously took a step towards them.  The children shrunk back in fear til their backs were pressed against the wall.  They sobbed loudly, the girl's arms wound protectively around her brother.  Quistis wanted so much to comfort them, but their cries grew more frantic as she stepped closer.  Hesitating, she slowly stretched an arm out towards them, watching in distress as the girl flinched and squeezed her eyes shut.

Seifer stepped between them and shook his head sadly.  There was no time.  Quistis let her arm drop dejectedly to the side.  Shuddering, she inhaled the sea air in deep breaths, tasting the salt.  Moist and cloying, it clung to her clothes and infused her senses.  Coupled with the heat, it made the atmosphere feel oppressive and claustrophobic.  She fought to keep her composure while Seifer waited anxiously.  

"Train to Timber leaving on Platform 1."  

The announcement roused Quistis from her inactive state.  She ran towards the train station, leading Seifer in a mad dash to catch the only train – their only form of escape.  The train doors were already closing.  Hurriedly pushing past the uniformed ticket collector, they leapt on board just before the doors finally slid shut, sealing them into this particular course of action.

Quistis punched in the required code on the keypad and the heavy metal door silently slid open.  Seifer looked questioningly at her and she shrugged self-consciously.  No one had ever gotten round to changing the SeeD compartment code.  There had been no need.  She stayed outside in the corridor while Seifer entered the SeeD room, disappearing from view.  Quistis gazed through the glass window.  Her eyes widened and her breathing quickened as she spotted Squall and the others spilling onto the just vacated platform following a shaken ticket collector.  Squall angrily motioned for the train to be stopped, but it was already too late.   

Suddenly, Zell's eyes narrowed as he locked onto her.  He started running towards the train, intent on jumping aboard.  For a brief moment, he seemed to keep pace with it, running just beside her window, close enough that she could see the tiny beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.  Their eyes locked, one pair regretful, the other spitting hate.  The contact broke as the train picked up speed and he was left behind.  

Heart still hammering loudly in her ears, she rested her heated forehead against the cold glass, soothed by the rocking motion of the train.  Her breath came in small puffs that stained the window with rapidly reforming condensation marks.  She refused to turn around at the sound of a door sliding open behind her.  It was just Seifer. 

_We made it._     

The view went black all of a sudden, startling her from her reverie.  Jerking away from the window, Quistis belatedly realised they were passing through a tunnel.  Her reflection stared back at her, outlined amidst the enveloping darkness.  

_I'm the same but everything else has changed.  _Never had she felt so alone.  

The darkness lifted as they exited the tunnel.  

_Such irony.  The world has moved on and I've been left behind._

She continued to stare out the window at the blurred scenery, watching but unseeing.      

Reluctant to disturb, Seifer simply gazed at her still form, but he never caught the tear that rolled down her cheek.

A/N: See, I don't always end with a cliff-hanger.  Well, I don't think this exactly qualifies as one.  Anyway, please review so I know what needs to be changed or improved. 


	5. Survival

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Bah, why would I want any of this?  Seifer's a jerk, Squall has no personality to begin with and Rinoa's just irritating…but they are interesting characters, along with Quistis, and Selphie, and Zell, and Irvine.  Oh darn it.  I _do_ want to own Final Fantasy 8, I _really_ _do_!  But (un)fortunately they belong to Squaresoft.  Argh…it's a love/hate relationship.       

Author's Rant: School life's been going down the drain, oh wait, I think I can hear it make those gurgling noises.  I hate 4-unit maths assessments…they're detrimental to your mental health and emotional state.  At least the World Cup has finally kicked off!  Haha…and it's all broadcasted live…but I can't watch it because of school.  *sob*  Life is so cruel.          

A/N: Decided to make things easier on the reader by separating the rants from the actual important stuff.  To all you wonderful wonderful people who reviewed…thank you.  Your feedback truly means a lot to me.  I'm trying to update this fic at least once every two weeks.  So far so good.  The perspective has changed in this chapter for a couple of reasons, most of which you'll find out later in the story (I haven't written the rest yet…just have a vague idea in my mind), thus it was annoyingly hard to write.  Still don't know whether I should be happy with it or not, but here we go.                        

Lest We Forget

Chapter 5: Survival

"All there is to life is survival."

Swirls of colour, light's shimmering rainbow dance, an explosion of activity, a plethora of sounds - the window framed a painting of life, a snapshot of reality captured in a glance.  Cid stared out the window, gazing at Balamb Garden in its entirety.  With its soaring pillars and elegant architecture, the overall effect was a bedazzling array of sparkling lights and artistic shadows.  It was the reason why he woke up every morning, why he continued to fight.  Here was the corporeal image of his dreams, a testament to his life's work.  He had built this up from the ground, transformed a vague concept in his mind into a respected fighting force.  Balamb Garden - home and so much more.  SeeDs were professional soldiers, but to him, friends and family.  He would do anything to protect and save them.  

Xu cleared her throat self-consciously, resisting the urge to place the report on the headmaster's desk and leave him to his thoughts, but orders were orders.  She snapped off a quick salute when he finally turned away from the view.  

"Intel reports are in, sir.  Quistis Trepe and Seifer Almasy have been sighted in Galbadia."  

Cid was silent, thinking.  "Very good.  Revoke the demotion orders for those scouts who lost them at Timber.  We can't afford to decrease morale anymore."  __

Xu gave a curt nod.  "Yes sir."  She spun neatly on her heel, heading towards the door.    

"Oh, and Xu…could you please call Squall, Zell, Rinoa, Irvine and Selphie to my office now?"  Politeness underscored his authority.

She acknowledged the order, allowing the door to swing noiselessly shut behind her.

Cid sank into a chair, tugging on the collar of his white shirt and sighing as he shuffled through the mountains of paperwork on his desk.  If only someone would cast firaga at the lot and engulf them in flames.  Finally, he resolved that staring at the piles would be absolutely futile – Hyne, they seemed to grow larger.  Sandwiched between unsigned contracts and SeeD applications, the non-descript intelligence report was barely noticeable.  Pulling it out upset the nearby stacks, and Cid grimaced as the dark brown wooden surface of his desk rapidly disappeared under a white avalanche.  Relaxing back into the chair, he skimmed through the report, thoughtfully fingering the stubble that shadowed his jaw.      

Xu entered the room quietly.  "Squall and the others are here to see you."

"Thank you Xu.  You can send them in."  Cid hoped that the mess on his desk would at the very least be mistaken for organised chaos.  

Xu patiently held open one of the doors.  In stepped the team that had conquered Ultimecia.  Heroes, heroines, knight and sorceress – but in this instant, merely soldiers reporting to a superior officer.  All wore blank looks, emotionless masks forced into place, betraying nothing.  They respectfully lined up and saluted.  Cid quickly got down to business.  

"At ease.  Scouts have reported seeing Quistis and Seifer in Galbadia.  They appear at instant, to be heading towards Deling City and should arrive there within a day or two."  His eyes swept along the silent line, calmly observing their reactions.  A vein throbbed in Zell's forehead and Selphie's mouth twitched, but everyone else remained relatively impassive.  

Cid began to pace back and forth in front of them.  "Your mission is to infiltrate Galbadia in pursuit of the fugitives and capture them alive, so they can be properly tried in a military court.  How you choose to achieve this is entirely up to your discretion.  Stay true to the main objective.  Commander Leonhart will be squad leader.  Squall…you have permission to use any available resources and personnel already in Galbadia.  Although we are doing our best to cover up the crime, it will soon be leaked out, so this has to be handled delicately.  SeeD are not murderers, only individuals are."     

Silence reigned until Squall stepped forward.  He didn't need to check what the others thought about the situation.  He knew he could speak for all of them.  "We accept the mission.  You can count on us, sir."

Zell looked as if to interrupt, but he hurriedly closed his mouth and stared at the floor, continually clenching and unclenching his hands.    

Cid glanced at him sympathetically and placed a weathered hand on his shoulder, but his reply was directed at everyone.  "I know this mission will be difficult, perhaps even harder than facing Ultimecia.  Quistis and Seifer have both watched your back at least once in the past.  They were your comrades-in-arms, fellow SeeDs, and friends, and now you have to hunt them down like common criminals.  Just remember that they betrayed you, that they betrayed all of us."

Zell took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly in frustration.  _Why don't the others seem to care as much?_  His initial boiling anger had gradually evaporated, replaced by a deep sense of hurt and confusion.  _Why?  Quisty would never betray us._  He became conscious of Cid once again speaking to the group.      

"This mission is to be conducted with a minimal amount of bloodshed.  Garden does not want to provoke Galbadia to war.  The mere presence of active SeeDs in their territory would cause enough diplomatic tension as it is.  If anything goes wrong, withdraw immediately or Garden will be compromised.  In the event that someone is left behind, Garden will disavow any knowledge or responsibility for the mission, labelling it as an independent action by autonomous individuals in SeeD.  Clear?"

"Yes sir!"  They replied in clipped military tones.  No one ever considered actually leaving someone behind.      

"But what if Quistis and Seifer are not retrieved by then?  We can't just leave them in Galbadia."  Irvine unconsciously ran a hand down the barrel of the rifle he always carried around.  

Selphie shot him an alarmed glance.  No amount of innocence or optimism could shield her from what his unintentional gesture implied.  She had not become a SeeD to do this, to kill friends.  She had joined to protect them.  

"I think you already know what to do."  Shockwaves rippled out in the wake of this dropped bombshell.  The cold statement left behind an uncomfortable silence.  No one wanted to think about what Cid meant.  

Squall leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, striking a familiar pose.  His faith in others had been shattered.  Once again, he was the loner - aloof and distant.  He had opened up to Rinoa, assuming that nothing else would ever hurt him again.  He was wrong.  Cold grey eyes scanned the room, watching the others.

Rinoa had stepped towards the window, arms wrapped tightly around herself, unknowingly occupying the spot Cid had earlier.  Images of Seifer holding Hyperion to Squall's neck flashed through her mind.  She'd seen the fear in Quistis' eyes when they were in her room.  And now Squall was retreating back into himself again.  Love was supposed to survive everything.  Friendship…the six of them…were meant to be invincible.  Fate was cruel.  Even greater suffering and loss had succeeded their victory over Ultimecia.  What was the point when it all came to nothing?

Everyone was no longer confident.  When forced to confront the obvious situation, nothing was left but doubts and regrets.    

_Coward.  Traitor.  Backstabber._  

Cid straightened, anxious to break the gloomy atmosphere before they reneged on the mission.  "I know it sounds harsh, but we're in a very precarious situation where we can't afford anything else going wrong."  His tone was apologetic.  

No one replied.

"Galbadia is rebuilding its army.  They are going from strength to strength, and although Garden is strong, most of our SeeDs are engaged on missions around the world.  There would not be sufficient time to recall them if Galbadia attacked unexpectedly.  If they declared war, we might simply not have the resources to oppose them for long.  All they need is a reason, and we're sure as hell not going to provide them with one.  War is inevitable, but we want it on our terms."

They were dire circumstances indeed.  Zell paled, his black tattoo contrasting sharply with his pasty white face.  Rinoa refused to turn away from the window.  Irvine adjusted his hat with one hand and cradled his rifle.  Selphie traced the floor pattern with her eyes.  Squall merely continued to stare straight ahead.  

"Traitors are an immediate threat to Garden's security.  Quistis knows a lot.  Galbadia will no doubt approach her.  I need not remind you that there is no alternative course of action.  This has to be done.  Stay true to the main objective.  For what it's worth…good luck."  Cid saluted them.  

Squall pushed himself off the wall, straightening to attention, and returned the salute.  Slowly, everyone else followed, SeeD training overcoming any personal objections.  "Thank you, sir."              

A ghost of a smile, bittersweet with remembrance appeared on Selphie's face.  "For old times' sake…booyaka."  She unenthusiastically punched the empty air above her.  It was the closest she had come to her old self in a while, but again it was only a shallow imitation of the past.

They trooped out of the room, but Squall turned around to face Cid at the door.  His eyes were thin slivers of grey ice.  "I just hope you know what you're doing."  

"All that needs to be done."  The even reply didn't seem to satisfy Squall, and his steely gaze remained fixed on the headmaster, coldly evaluating.  Cid didn't flinch and soon Squall turned away, disappearing through the door.  It swung shut behind him.

Cid collapsed onto his chair, removing his glasses with one hand and wearily massaging the bridge of his nose with the other.  The meeting had gone about as well as he had expected.  He was getting way too old for this.  

Survival.  That was the point of all this.  Simple survival.  Not power.  Not ambition.  Not greed.  Nature demands the survival of the fittest.  Man merely follows that long established pattern.

Quickly reaching for a plain piece of paper, he scrawled a message and left to pass it to Xu.                 

Strategy, thought and foresight…all you need to win a war.  

A/N: I massacred their personalities…ahhh!!  Remember the author's note in Chapter 1.  No, seriously, it was intentional, but I hope that the characters were still recognisable.  Realistically, people change because of things that happen to and around them.  I'm just praying that I haven't changed them too much.  Don't worry, the next chapter will probably be back to Quistis and Seifer.      


	6. Impressions

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Squaresoft…you just gotta love them.   

A/N: I knew I shouldn't have said anything in the last chapter about updating at least once every two weeks.  Sorry about the delay, but fanfiction.net was being so dangerously unstable.  Hope the slightly increased chapter length kind of makes up for it.             

Lest We Forget

Chapter 6: Impressions 

"The impressions left behind are usually the ones unintended."

The two cloaked figures hurried down the street, narrowly avoiding being run over, but unable to evade the water splashed by passing cars.  What did it matter, they were already soaked ten minutes ago when it had first started pouring.  Now, half-slipping on the wet pavement, they only frantically sought to escape the deluge.  Drawn like moths to a flame, their minds were set on finding shelter, and a rather inconspicuous bar further up the road appeared to offer that.  

The bar had begun its existence as a sleazy nightclub, one with a superficial veneer of sophistication, of the type numerous and popular in Deling City.  Its owners though had later rather presumptuously equated tacky plastic décor with modern minimalist elegance, although it's still unsure how.  Current patrons have often generously considered it a deluded effort to reduce costs, but what's cheap isn't always best.  New investors had quickly and intelligently transformed it into a seedy bar, of the type numerous and popular in Deling City.  Aptly renaming it 'Oblivion', customers were expected to drink themselves under the table.  They weren't disappointed.  

Tuesdays were always slow, and the background conversation momentarily ebbed, as the door to 'Oblivion' swung open.  Bleary-eyed patrons briefly glanced up at the new arrivals, before losing interest and turning back to stare mournfully into their rapidly emptying glasses.    

"Hey!  Take off your coats.  You're leaving water marks all over my carpet," the barman yelled at the newcomers over the returning noise.  Stereotypically tall and staid, he was as much a fixture of any bar as the bar stools and probably possessed as much intelligence.  

Quistis glanced worriedly at Seifer from under her thick cloak.  If they revealed themselves, there was always the danger of someone recognising them.  Balamb Garden might have scouts posted even here in enemy territory…_especially_ here in enemy territory.  And who knew how the Galbadians would react to Seifer, their former commander.  Seifer seemed to be waiting for her to decide.  They were already making a scene, just standing here like this.  People would think they had something to hide.  Besides, what place would be better to get information than in a bar?  The sight of the heavy rain pounding outside the glass window quickly made her mind up for her.  They would just have to hope that the bar patrons were too drunk to notice anything amiss.               

"Sorry," Quistis apologised loudly to the barman.  Unwilling to draw any more attention to themselves, she and Seifer reluctantly removed their cloaks.  This though, quickly initiated another round of stares, longer this time, most of which were aimed lustfully at Quistis.      

Someone wolf-whistled from the corner.  

_So much for keeping a low profile._  Quistis governed her rising discomfort and scanned the crowd made up of mostly businessmen, depressed husbands, and disillusioned old men, the typical bar throng.  Her gaze hovered on a group of off-duty Galbadian soldiers who sat at the bar, but their expressions only implied admiration, not recognition.   

Seifer moved to put his arm around her waist possessively and glared fiercely at everyone.  The openly admiring gazes swiftly vanished.  Quistis checked the urge to shrug off his arm. 

"If you do anything funny, I swear I'll break your arm," she whispered to Seifer, all the while smiling icily at the others in the bar.                     

"Me…funny?  Never," he replied innocently, keeping the smirk from his face, as his offending arm drifted lower.  "Anyway, you don't seem to be amused." 

"Remove your arm, or I'll remove it for you," Quistis hissed, stiffening.  

"I'm just adding some verisimilitude.  We'll blend in better.  Has anyone told you that you look so cute when you're mad?" Seifer hazarded, taunting her further.  He wanted to see how much more he could push her.  

"Seifer…move it or lose it," she growled softly at him, before composing herself and adding in a louder sickeningly sweet voice for the benefit of any unwanted listeners, "Dear, we're making a scene.  As much as I _love_ you, I don't want to stand like this all day."  When he made no effort to move, she ducked her head closer to his and whispered threateningly in his ear, "There are so many _other_ things you could lose."       

"Oh, but I'm so very attached to everything," he retorted sarcastically, before pulling her into a dark, empty seating booth and reluctantly releasing her.  "Is that all the thanks I get for saving you from those perverted old men?"__

If looks could kill...

"Ladies night.  Drinks are on the house for women," interrupted the barman.

"How convenient.  Now you'll be able to drink all you like," Quistis exclaimed brightly to Seifer, relishing every moment of her revenge, before calmly ordering a cocktail.  

Seifer's expression was priceless, his face rapidly contorting into a scowl.  Before he could retaliate though, the barman interjected rather hesitantly, all the while looking at him, "You're not one of those people who have issues and need to tell their life's story, are you?  'Cause Phyros over there's booked my time, and when I last ignored him, he started a bar brawl."  

"Him?  Oh no…erm…what would give you that idea?" Quistis answered, remarkably managing to keep a straight face until after the barman turned away.  Then, she covered her mouth with both hands and quivered with silent, self-contained laughter…all at Seifer's expense of course.  He didn't appear too happy.   

"So you guys just arrived in Deling City?" a thick voice piped up.    

Quistis could vaguely make out something resembling a man carrying a box of brochures in the dim light.  She thought it best not to commit to anything and answered, "We're just passing through." 

"Yeah, aren't we all," was the cynical reply.  "Hey, you two look familiar.  Have we met?"  

Ordinarily, Quistis would have brushed aside the question as just another pick-up line, but not here and definitely not now.  Had news from Balamb Garden already reached Galbadia?  She could feel the wispy talons of fear enclose her mind in their icy grip.  She fought her rising panic and tried to answer calmly, "Perhaps you've seen other people who look like us."  

There was silence.  Quistis held her breath.  Then the voice resumed more enthusiastically, "You're probably right, but hey I'm sure you'd like to see the sights of Deling City.  Tourists love it.  There's the-"

"-We've seen them all."  Seifer interrupted quickly, relief evident on his face.  They were lucky that the bar was pretty dark and the patrons all drunk.

"Do you still want to buy a map?"  He sure didn't want to give up.

"No," Seifer replied firmly, tinges of annoyance creeping into his voice.  

"Yes, we do," Quistis countered, avoiding his glare.  "Hyne, you would think this whole 'not needing a map' is a male thing.  What is it with men?"

Seifer looked as if to object.

"Besides, the residents might not be all that's changed." Quistis continued.  "And we've forgotten _so much _already."  _That will shut him up._  

The two of them sat quietly, no longer disturbed by incessant advertisements from amateur Deling City tour promoters.  Now, they could hear the more boisterous conversations as alcohol loosened the tongues of those around them.  None appeared particularly interesting though.

"Rumour has it that something big 's happened in Balamb Garden?"

Quistis sat up, staring at Seifer's shocked expression, one she knew mirrored her own.  The line had originated from the group of half-drunk off-duty Galbadian soldiers stationed at the bar.  

"Yeah?  Like what…they ran out of hotdogs?"

Quistis just managed to stop herself from snorting derisively.  She was beginning to feel disheartened that the conversation would not be as enlightening as she originally thought.    

"Nah.  Probably not that major."  Rowdy laughter followed.

"Wouldn't put it pass them.  I heard that they eat truckloads of the stuff.  I knew it.  SeeDs run on hotdogs.  We cut away their supply, and we'll be able to beat them.  Just you wait Garden.  You ain't so tough without your hotdogs and -"

"Private."

"Yes, sarge?"

"You're rambling.  Shut up."

"Yes sir.  Sorry sir."

"So…apparently, SeeD's covering something up."  

Quistis' eyes widened.

"But they're always undercover."  The ensuing silence implied a glare, the unique type aimed at dull-witted cronies and brainless subordinates, the type usually followed with a rolling of the eyes.    

"As I was saying, they think some high-ranking SeeD's turned psychotic and killed someone, maybe even an innocent civilian.  Balamb Garden's reputation will be ruined unless they clean this mess up.  Anyway, we've got a betting pool going for the identities of those involved."

If it were at all possible for Quistis' heart to beat any faster, it would have done so now.

"Whoever it is, I support them.  An enemy of an enemy is a friend."

"Yes, I'm sure the homicidal SeeD and you would get on so well together.  What a perfect couple."

"It's a she?"

"Dunno, but it wouldn't matter to you right?  Hah!  You're always so wrapped up in those sado-masochistic games you enjoy."

"Ouch."

"Sado-masochistic games are meant to hurt, idiot."

Mortified, Quistis felt she had overheard enough of their conversation.  She glanced questioningly at Seifer, and was met with a customary smirk.  He seemed to have found the last few comments particularly amusing.  She kicked him in the shin, hard.  The grimace that flashed across his face was enough of a reward.

Seifer glanced around the bar, trying his best to avoid her furious glare.  No one seemed to be paying them much attention.  His eyes skimmed over the blurred faces of strangers, and locked, quite suddenly, with the ice blue ones of a non-descript, middle-aged man sitting next to the door.  He was staring right at them.  Seifer almost jerked in surprise.  The man lifted his wine glass as if in salute, his thin lips curled in a sardonic smile.  Seifer tore his gaze away and hastily turned to face Quistis, ignoring her scowl.                           

"We've picked up an audience.  Check the man next to the door," Seifer informed her, his serious tone overcoming any remaining anger.   

Quistis deliberately dropped a serviette and bent down to pick it up, surreptitiously glancing at the door.  No one was seated next to it.  She told Seifer.

He furtively looked over…and blinked.  Even the wine glass had disappeared.  

"He must have left," Seifer said defensively, willing Quistis to believe him.  "I know what I saw."

She didn't seem inclined to do so.  "Don't you think we would have heard the door open?"      

"Look, if you're still mad about what I did just now, I didn't mean it.  Hell, this is important," Seifer retorted, half-standing.  His voice had taken on an edge.  "Do you really want to risk getting caught here?" 

"Yes, just like how we rushed out of the cave.  Now, wasn't that a lie?" Quistis snapped, annoyed.  That incident had nearly gotten them killed, and here he was talking about risks.    

He was surprised at her vehemence.  Why wouldn't she just believe him?  

Quistis had thought about a lot of things in the time after their frantic escape from Balamb.  She voiced the other doubt that had been nagging at her since.  "Speaking of great escapes, I still don't know how you made it out of Garden so easily.  Last I saw, Irvine had his sights firmly planted on your head."

Just before the walls slammed down, the briefest expression of pain that flickered across Seifer's face almost made Quistis regret her harsh words.  

"He missed," Seifer said quietly, sitting back down again.  

"Irvine never misses." 

"There's a first time for everything."  His eyes searched her face earnestly.  "Is that it, after all this you still don't trust me?"

Unexpectedly, Quistis laughed.  It was a cold, cynical laugh - one totally out of sync with her normal behaviour.  He had never heard it from her before.  It chilled Seifer to the bone.  Things were taking their toll on her.  "How can I trust anyone?  I wake up.  You're the first one I see.  You say you've got amnesia.  I'm injured with no clue of what happened to me.  My friends are after me and I've been branded a traitor who's tried to murder someone.  It's like being stuck in a nightmare.  Half the time, I keep pinching myself, hoping someone will wake me up," Quistis spat bitterly, crossing her arms.  "There's no such thing as trust in this world.  I may be other things, but I'm not naïve.  Maybe you're the one who needs to wake up, Seifer."          

"We're in the same position.  Why don't you believe me?  Cause I was a traitor before all this?  Since we fought on opposite sides of a war?" Seifer questioned relentlessly, leaning threateningly closer towards her.  

"It's not something you would forget."

"Neither is murder."

He was encouraged by the ensuing silence.  "You would pick the past over the present?  I don't remember what I've _supposedly_ done either, yet you won't allow me the same benefit of the doubt.  Hell Quistis, ever considered that perhaps you really are guilty?  I wasn't given that choice."       

"But people saw you…they were hurt by you," Quistis argued, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.  _I was hurt by you.  _

"I only have your word for it.  Where are these people?  Definitely not here," Seifer retorted, before leaning back on his seat.  He took a deep breath when Quistis didn't reply.  "Looks like a stalemate.  I guess we'll just have to trust each other then.  Only way we can survive."        

An uneasy silence followed, until Quistis quietly ventured, "In the beginning you didn't care.  I never said I would trust you, so why is it suddenly so important to you?"

Again, there was nothing but awkward silence.  After a while, Seifer smirked and wisecracked, "So I can have something that idiot Squally boy doesn't.  Hyne, you would think he just hit puberty."  

Surprisingly, Quistis had to fight back a smile, but Seifer had not finished.

"Although…his name _was_ the first one out of your mouth when you woke up.  Some lover boy Quistis…I would think you had better taste than that.  Choosing guys who want to kill you is a record low," he taunted, shaking his head all the while in mock-disapproval at her.

"He's not mine," Quistis replied evenly, glad that the conversation had lightened up and returned to slightly more neutral ground.  Strange to see how things had changed.  Before all this, she would have considered this topic off limits.  Now she could even talk about Squall - _to Seifer - _without feeling some form of regret or bitterness.  She reminded herself she needed her head checked.  Here they were on the run, deep in enemy territory, joking about.  "But who do you suppose _is_ good enough for me?  Someone like…?"

"…You?"  "Me?"  They both said at the same time and grinned.  "In your dreams, Seifer."        

"Hey you!  You're a wuss."  

Seifer and Quistis whirled around to face the source of the insult.

It came from a man standing next to their table.  He was swaying rather unsteadily.   

"What the hell?" Seifer had enough of being interrupted for one night.  He stood up.

"Ignore him.  He's drunk," Quistis cautioned.  She could smell the alcohol on the man's breath.  Hell, the whole place reeked of cigarettes and alcohol.  

"Yeah, ya heard me.  You're a coward and a wuss.  Here's 'r pressie from mommy."  The man punched Seifer.  Seifer reeled from the blow, stumbling backwards a few steps, shocked.  He then slammed into the man with a bellow, replying with a quick uppercut that snapped his head back.  Following with a neat roundhouse, the man was left on the floor.  Others joined the brawl though, and Seifer soon found himself struck at from all directions.  It was rapidly becoming a bloody free-for-all, a mess of wildly swinging arms, shouting voices, and bruised, sweating bodies.  

"Argh, I only left Phyros for 5 seconds," the barman groaned to no one in particular, and continued to look on helplessly at the ongoing melee.   

Quistis shook her head and sighed.  Climbing onto the table, she took out her whip and cracked it so that its tip snapped inches above the mob.

Everyone turned to stare at her for the third time that night.  Hands on her hips, with the whip handle clutched tightly in her right hand, she cut an imposing figure.    

"Now would be a good time for us to leave," she told Seifer, stepping down from the table, and dragging him out of the bar by one arm.  He didn't offer any resistance.  The door swung shut behind them, leaving a startled crowd and smashed up furniture.

"What a woman," the Galbadian sergeant's eyes remained on the closed bar door. 

The private next to him sighed deeply, staring at the spot where Quistis had stood earlier.  "Yeah.  And what a whip."

A/N: Weird mood, late night, no sugar/caffeine.  What's the result?  A strange chapter.  I quite unashamedly admit that there were probably a few clichés used here too.  I seriously hope it wasn't too bad.


	7. Dread

Rating: R

Disclaimer Generator 2000: Error!  File not found.  Contact Squaresoft for troubleshooting or refer to the Final Fantasy VIII manual.               

A/N: For the last month and a half, I've been occupied with my major exams.  I wasn't able to update as quickly as I wanted to, and I know some of you have been waiting for this chapter.  Thank you for your patience and sticking by it.  I'm sorry for taking so long, and for any dodgy sentence structures and grammar.                

Warning: There is a bit more violence in this chapter than in previous ones.  It's not _extremely_ graphic (probably no worse than your average fantasy novel), but if that sort of thing disturbs you, please skip the fight scene.             

Lest We Forget

Chapter 7: Dread 

"It's the nagging feeling at the back of your mind, the suspicions, the premonitions of doom, the subtle fears." 

The security guard scratched his potbelly with one hand.  He hated the graveyard shift.  Fifteen years on the job and somehow, he always ended up back here every night at exactly 11.30 babysitting deserted platforms.  Not so much life-threateningly scary as it was dangerously boring.  For the 527th time in his life, he wondered if there was some rookie's pool he had lost all those years ago.  Then again, he really should have joined the union.  Sighing, he noisily propped both feet up on the uncluttered desk, praying that it wouldn't collapse on him like everything else in his sordid existence.  His customary black torch lay abandoned on a rickety shelf, the only other piece of furniture in the stationmaster's office.  After being attacked by something largely resembling a deformed rat a couple of years ago, he'd given up patrolling with a flashlight.  He simply wasn't paid enough.  If life was one big game of triple triad, he'd been left with crap cards.               

His left hand tightened around the slender neck of an amber bottle containing Galbadian's Finest.  The vintage wasn't that bad…just good enough to marginally resemble vinegar.  It was all he could afford with his meagre pay, and the alcohol could be used to clean his gun.  Besides, getting drunk fast was the thing, who cared what it tasted like.  

After gulping down half the bottle, he could already feel things beginning to blur.  He gazed out the glass window at the collage of shadows, eyeing the sharp edges, dulled planes and shades of grey like a discerning art critic.  He welcomed the silence.  It wasn't deafening or overbearing, almost natural, a fitting accompaniment to the darkness.  The alcohol made his mind relax.  It always did.  

He started to hear a continuous high-pitched noise.  It was getting louder.  Hadn't happened to him before.  The shadows were shifting.  He really shouldn't have drank that much.  He tried to stand still, but everything kept going in and out of focus.  The window seemed crooked.  The world was at an angle, and it was one he didn't like.  The ringing in his ears hadn't stopped.  The shadows were disappearing.  A bright light was rushing closer.  Someone was coming.  He simply wasn't paid enough to die.  He hid beneath the table, once again praying that it wouldn't collapse.  The noise escalated and then stopped.  Whoever they were, they were here.  

***

With an ear-jarring rattle reminiscent of distant gunfire, the heavy metal door slowly ground to a halt.  A wraith-like figure alighted from the gaping maw, landing lightly a few feet below.  It stood motionless, waiting, a patch of grey camouflaged in the night's enveloping darkness.  The small clouds of condensed breath that issued sporadically from the silhouette were its only signs of life.            

Gravel crunched under the pressure of a boot heel.  More spectres poured forth, joining their nocturnal companions.  A cigarette flared up with a hiss that broke the monotonous silence.  Indistinct metal objects twinkled evilly in its ruby glow, as if to parody the familiar constellations of the night's sky.        

***

Trembling, the guard could hear the dull thud of muffled footsteps.  Then…a grating sound, as if something heavy was dragged.  It stopped.  Everything receded into silence.  It was another two hours before he got out from under the table, swearing never to drink again.       

***

The drop of water lazily meandered down the side of the rusty pipe, slowly gathering speed and gradually growing in size.  It hung, briefly suspended at the very edge, before plummeting into the murky depths of a large puddle inches below.  Concentric waves rippled across the surface, rising and falling in an intricate dance.  Seifer's foot dashed the swirling patterns as he stepped into the puddle, soiling his leather boots and spraying water everywhere.  He paced back and forth, churning up the sodden layer of filth that had accumulated on the ground over the years.  Littered with broken bottles and bursting trash bags, the narrow alley looked just about as bad as it smelled.  He tried his best to ignore the murderously rancid stench that assailed him with every drawn breath, but failed…miserably.  He had the feeling that even after numerous baths, he would never feel truly clean again.  The thought didn't do much for his already foul mood.  Grimacing, he massaged his stiff left arm, trying to make it regain sensitivity.                   

Leaning against a damp wall, Quistis crossed her arms and watched him carefully.  Their rather conspicuous exit from the bar had resulted in an extremely tense flight through several back alleys, side roads and deserted parks.  Every suspicious look directed at them had implied recognition.  Every lurking shadow had spelt danger.  Her fingers still ached from keeping a death grip on Seifer's arm for too long.  Eventually, they had ducked into this particular alley, hoping to have lost any stalkers.  Now, they merely waited.  

Seifer continued his restless prowl, constantly glowering at the alley walls, at the shadows, even at the floor.  

Impatient.  Feral.  Caged.  

Veiled by the shadows, Quistis felt like a voyeur.  Her eyes trailed him as he walked, observing how he hunched ever so slightly, and how he unconsciously favoured his right leg at times.  _Old battle wounds?_  She saw how his sun-bleached hair had grown marginally longer, and how his features had squared out.  These little details, which she had missed earlier despite always priding herself on being observant, gradually revealed themselves in the faint light.  She attributed it to adrenalin and fear heightening her senses.  She noticed how the skin on his right cheek had darkened and discoloured to an angry bluish-purple, the ugly bruise no doubt a result of the night's earlier bar brawl.  It made Seifer appear even more intimidating and sullen – the bully he had been in Garden all those years ago.  Her gaze drifted upwards to the prominent scar arcing from his forehead to the right side of his nose, courtesy of Squall.  Seifer and Squall, sworn rivals and her two most gifted students, again on opposite sides.  Only this time, _she_ was on the wrong side.    

"No one followed us.  Are you satisfied?"  

Saving the world surely had to count for something.  Fate should have finished with them.  Hyne, she was barely over twenty and felt as if she was going on ninety.  No wonder death had threatened an early arrival.  

"We've already wasted half an hour of our pathetic lives waiting in this shit hole."

She was weary, tired of struggling to survive in a world that no longer made any sense.  Maybe she should just turn herself in.  Besides, her life had been destroyed the moment this nightmare had begun, might as well beg clemency from her _friends_.  

The mocking laughter echoing in her mind only halted when Quistis realised Seifer had stopped pacing and was now just standing there, glaring at her.  He looked peeved.  _Uh oh_.  Mentally reprimanding herself for getting distracted, she unflinchingly met his fierce gaze.                   

Seifer swore Quistis' eyes were sparkling in the darkness.  It was…disconcerting.  Fighting to regain his composure and still irritated by her earlier lack of response, he spat, "Give it up _Instructor_!  Imitating a wall doesn't really suit you.  Squall would probably be much better at it."  His words were laced with enough sarcasm to wound a T-Rexaur, that is, if they were susceptible to that sort of thing.   

Quistis though, merely felt annoyance begin to well up within her.  _Trust Seifer to be the only one able of making the respected title 'instructor' sound like a swear word._  She arched one eyebrow, but decided to remain silent, knowing that it would infuriate Seifer even more.  It was childish, but at least she retained control of the situation, or so she thought.    

"I'm out of here!" Seifer finally exclaimed, exasperated and already striding towards the alley entrance.  He would have left, and Quistis would have been forced to chase after him, but for one thing happening.  He slipped on the muck.

She couldn't help but snigger.  It soon transformed into a full-blown laugh as Seifer began cursing rather imaginatively.  There were a few about Hyperion being wedged somewhere uncomfortable.       

"Need some help Seifer?" Quistis mocked, unable to keep a straight face.  She knew taunting Seifer Almasy was often considered a sure-fire shortcut to the afterlife, but it was too tempting.  Something in her constantly rose to the challenge.  _Life is short.  I might as well enjoy myself._  She scrunched up her face and cooed in her best motherly voice, "Little Seifikins got stuck in the mud."  Now, life had nothing left to offer.  Seifer or SeeD could kill her and she'd die happy.  

"Shut up and give me a hand," Seifer growled, looking like an angry lost child with his arm stretched out towards her, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.  

"No way am I letting you drag me down as well," she skipped out of his reach.  "I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"Could have fooled me," he muttered to himself, slowly standing up and examining his trenchcoat, which was now a disgusting brown in colour and smelt awful.  Looking back at Quistis, he realised that her gaze was fixed on something behind him, something at the alley entrance.  Not wanting to provoke whatever it was, he turned around slowly, praying all the while that it didn't choose that particular moment to attack, or better yet, that it wasn't even hostile.  Knowing his luck, they were in trouble.                     

"What do we have here?"

"Looks like a little lovers' spat."

"She's a looker."

"You know he's not good enough for you.  We'll give you the time of your life."

Carefully judging the distance between them, Quistis stared at the blocky silhouettes that gradually resolved into four men.  Gaunt and wiry, they had the haunted look of people living on the streets.  Something was not quite right though, but she couldn't put her finger on it.  Trying to lull the thugs into a false sense of overconfidence, she drew closer to Seifer, as if seeking protection.  He moved to shield her, and she briefly wondered whether he knew of her plan or if his actions were simply instinctive.  With one hand clutching at his shoulder, seemingly in fear, her other was left free to inch slowly towards her whip, its movements concealed by Seifer's body.  Adopting a terrified expression, she asked in a mock-tremulous voice, "What do you want from us?"  Quistis hoped she wasn't overdoing it, but then again, their assailants were expecting easy pickings.                 

"Just some fun," one snickered, his face twisting into a leering grin.  They revelled in her fear, fed on and were empowered by it.  Two of them took a few steps towards Quistis, ignoring Seifer who had remained silent since the start.  They were men and there were four of them.  What could a scared girl and her cowardly boyfriend do?  The odds were four to two.      

Quistis' hand tightened on Seifer's shoulder and pushed him, forcing him to rapidly sidestep.  Her other hand came up in a blur of motion, clutching the whip handle, the whip tip already accelerating past the speed of sound.  With a flick of her wrist, it was sent arcing through the air towards the lead attacker, twisting around his neck.  Struggling to breathe, his eyes bulged and his fingers groped frantically at the coils, trying desperately to loosen the whip's stranglehold.  With another vicious twist of her hand, his neck snapped and the whip jerked back towards her.  

The speed and ferocity of the attack had shocked the thugs into inaction, but they now recovered.  Drawing out wickedly serrated knives from inside their jackets, the rest started towards her with murder in their eyes.  The odds were now three to two.                          

Seifer firmly held Hyperion, the gunblade gleaming malevolently in the dim light.  Letting his reflexes remember what his mind could not, he ducked under the sweeping blade of one thug and slashed violently upwards through cloth, skin and bone, painting a trail of red.  The odds were now even.  Hardly having a chance to breathe or feel nauseated, he dodged just in time, to turn what would have been a fatal thrust into a nasty scratch along one arm.  The pain flared up almost immediately.  His new assailant swiped at him again, clearly more skilled with the knife than his late partner.  Awkwardly bringing Hyperion up to bear, Seifer just managed to parry it in time, but the movement left him vulnerable and he knew he wouldn't be able to block the next thrust.  The alley was too narrow for him to roll out of the way, and he rushed to pull Hyperion back into position.  The serrated blade swung towards him, about to perforate his flesh – but then it stopped, suspended inches away from his body.  Seifer blinked and impaled the man, watching remorselessly as he gurgled and collapsed.  The knife had fallen to the ground, still ensnared in Quistis' whip.  She grinned at Seifer.  Rolling his eyes and snorting, he suddenly caught sight of the last thug creeping up behind her.  He couldn't do anything.  She saw his look of horror and spun around.  Ten inches of steel flashed downwards.  No time to dodge.  The remaining man's expression was triumphant, eyes wild with rage and blood lust, ready to avenge his murdered comrades.  

Quistis flinched.  Before the blade could pierce her though, her attacker stiffened, his face a flurry of pain and bewilderment.  Blood seeped from his mouth, trickling slowly down his chin.  He toppled forward, a standard issue Galbadian army sword protruding through his stomach.  Quistis and Seifer gaped at the corpse, their minds unable to comprehend what had just happened.  Panting slightly, Quistis eyed the newcomer wearily.  

Although grateful for his interference, she wasn't about to forget that they _were_ still in a darkened Galbadian alley, and _he_, was obviously a Galbadian soldier despite the plain clothes.  It wouldn't surprise her if his motivation for killing the thug was so he could rape her himself.  That was how the world seemed to work these days.  She readied her whip, a bitter taste residing in her mouth as she contemplated her ingratitude.

The man didn't appear hostile, or even memorable.  Actually, she had never seen anyone look so ordinary.  _Non-descript features, middle-aged, dark hair, average height…typical run of the mill Galbadian.  _She wondered if he was a clone.  Hunched over the corpse with his hands clenched at his sides, he looked strangely vulnerable, like someone caught in the action of mourning.  When he finally glanced up though, Quistis noticed that his eyes were riveting shards of cobalt.                              

Unconsciously taking a step forward in surprise, Seifer recognised him as the elusive stranger in the bar.  

"You're an extremely hard man to find, Commander Almasy."

A/N: The next chapter will be posted in a week max, if not sooner.  


	8. Deception

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Jarad is mine (you can tell as he's not much of a character).  Everyone else belongs to the talented and mighty Squaresoft.  The chapter quote is actually a line paraphrased from the Star Wars novel, 'Assault at Selonia'.     

A/N: Argh…every time I give an exact time frame for updates, something goes wrong.  Heck, I think I jinx it that way.  This time, my main computer decided to die on me.  *Viciously kicks load of junk, experiencing an Office Space moment.*                  

Lest We Forget

Chapter 8: Deception

"Once you start playing the game of wheels within wheels, it's hard to stop."

The soldier's words hung in the air, propped up by the tense silence.     

Telltale signs of shock marred Quistis' usual aura of calm confidence, the raised eyebrows, wide eyes and slightly open mouth acting like cracks in a mask.  Her questioning gaze found no answers in the man's expression.  He merely looked bemused, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.  He seemed to be waiting for them to reply.  She was reminded of the feeling of unease that had registered when those thugs showed up.  Something had not been right.  Maybe it was just their body language.  Hell, they were trying to rape her.  They hadn't demanded money, which was by itself, odd but not extremely remarkable.  What now bothered her more was how this man had turned up at exactly the right moment to save them.  She was never that lucky, and this world did not run purely on chance.  Though reluctant to turn her back on an enemy, especially one that hadn't attacked yet, she moved to glance hesitantly at Seifer.  Quistis didn't know what to expect.  The fear that he would join the Galbadian, and then triumphantly reveal his amnesia to be mere pretence, caused a sinking feeling within her.  As she saw how he recognised the soldier, she could only imagine one thing…that somehow, her fear had become reality, and Seifer had betrayed her again.   

***

"Gamma Scout checking in."

"Report."

"Sir, the agent has made contact with Trepe and Almasy."

"Good.  Carry on."

***

Quistis backed against the alley wall, her gaze flicking from Seifer to the soldier and back.  She should have known that this would happen.  She, who had criticised trust and naiveté, had herself fallen gullible to the world.  _Never again._  _It will never happen again.  _Her fingers were white from fearfully clutching the whip handle.  Anger at his betrayal and her own stupidity made her grip even tighter, causing the leather to bite painfully into her skin.                        

"Who are you?" 

Seifer's question caught her by surprise, sparking the hope that perhaps she was mistaken, but after recalling his look of recognition, her features hardened once more.  This whole conversation was probably for her benefit, with the sole purpose of gaining her trust.      

"Don't you remember me, Almasy?"  

_Oh, whoever that man is, he's good.  Must be a top-notch agent.  His eyes even narrowed at the right moment._  Quistis crossed her arms tightly over her chest, closing herself off to the possibility that Seifer was innocent.  She continued to watch, convinced that everything was staged.  She wasn't sure why she hadn't attacked or tried to escape yet.

"Should I?" Seifer barked, frustrated.  He wanted clear answers, not bloody mind games.  Increasingly irritated by the ever-present scornful smile, he glared at the soldier.  _Note to self, don't ever smirk at Quistis like that again._

"I'm hurt that you would forget an old friend," the man replied sarcastically, placing a hand over his heart in mock-agony.  "Going senile, Almasy?  Your faulty memory wounds me deeply."

Quistis frowned.  Those words seemed to contain a whole host of meanings and implications.  

"Enough," Seifer snarled, pointing Hyperion threateningly at him.  "Who are you?  Name, rank, whatever."        

The soldier didn't even flinch.  Instead, he straightened and stood with parade-ground stiffness, reciting with out-of-place formality, "I'm Jarad, previously lieutenant of the Galbadian Army's 1st regiment during the recent Sorceress War."         

The information wasn't that surprising.  Nothing useful had been revealed.  Ignoring the disappointment, Seifer raised an eyebrow.  "And now?"  

"Just Jarad," the man muttered, seemingly deflated.

If I didn't know better, I'd say all this was real.  Their deception sickened her, sickened her more than the fresh corpses that still lay haphazardly around the alley.  Rivers of blood flowed into the earlier puddles of rainwater, dyeing them crimson.  Her trust had been tainted in much the same way.

"Why were you watching us in the bar?"            

Her head shot up.  Quistis looked at Seifer, confused.  What?  

"Cause I recognised you," Jarad replied evenly, before turning to face her.  "And your lady was a real stunner."

She hated the way his gaze trailed up and down her body, lingering on certain places.  It was degrading.    

Seifer didn't seem to like it either.  Walking right up to Jarad, he stood belligerently in front of him, blocking his view of Quistis.  "Why did you disappear?"

"Huh?  I went to the bathroom.  By the time I got back, the place was a mess and you were gone.  Some green-nosed private was muttering about a sex goddess with a whip."  

Quistis grimaced.  If Trepism spreads to Galbadia, I won't wait for SeeD to kill me, I'll kill myself.  So Seifer had been right about the man he saw in the bar.  She hadn't believed him then.  It explained how he recognised Jarad.  She wanted to doubt Seifer's betrayal, and believe that she had over-reacted, but… Never again.  It will never happen again.  Nothing would happen, if she kept him at a distance.  She did not want to give him back the power to hurt her.  

***

"Is everything going according to plan?"

"Yes sir."

***

Ignoring the asshole in front of him, Seifer glanced back at Quistis.  She hadn't said a word since Jarad came along, instead, merely choosing to stand there and observe them with a strange look on her face.  It was extremely disturbing behaviour for her.  He hoped nothing was wrong.  Turning back to Jarad, he asked, "Why were you looking for me?"

"More questions?  You're getting predictable in your old age, Almasy.  No one's heard from you since the war ended.  After the huge reward was posted for your capture, nearly everyone was ready to haul your ass to the war crimes tribunal."  

"And you're one of them?"

"No.  I wanted to repay a favour."

Jarad's reply hardly reassured him.  For all he knew, the man might just want to torture and kill him.  He really wished Quistis would say something, anything, even one of her pet comments designed to get under his skin.  _Oh don't tell me she's fallen for jerk face here.  Women.  _He growled at Jarad, "What was it?"  

"You saved my life during the war."  His tone was serious.  

Seifer swore he had heard those lines before in numerous B-grade movies.  They were usually followed by "there was an ambush" or "we were outnumbered".

Jarad continued earnestly, "Don't you remember?  We were ambushed by SeeD."

Seifer could not help rolling his eyes.  _Close enough._

"Where was this?" Quistis' voice startled both of them, and despite her frosty tone, he felt nothing but relief. 

"D-District Prison," Jarad replied, stepping around Seifer so he could get a better look at her.  "What's it to you?"

Narrowing her eyes, she spat the one word which summarised what Squall had experienced there, and what his friends thought of the place.  "Hell."

***

"Do they believe him yet?"

"No sir."

"Very well, accelerate procedures."

***

"You haven't introduced us, Seifer," Jarad said, hiding whatever he thought of her vehement reaction behind his even tone.  

_Great, we're both on a first name basis now.  _Seifer remained silent.  He had no idea whether Quistis wanted to reveal her identity.  If she did, she could very well do so on her own.  Besides, he received enough crap from her already without messing this one up.

"It's Quistis," she made no offer to shake Jarad's hand, not that anyone expected her to.  "And I know extremely well who _you _are."

"I'm flattered."

She shook her head slowly as if silently chiding an insolent boy.  The answer was not the one she wanted.  Pushing herself off the wall, she straightened and matched his civil tone.  "Let's dispense with these _pleasantries_.  I assure you that they're perfectly unnecessary.  What do you want?"

"To help both of you."

"So the life debt has been extended to cover me as well.  Why?" she gazed curiously at him.  "I assume you're speaking for the military here."

"We received word of your _plight_," his sardonic smile was back in place.  "You're not very popular in Balamb it seems."

"Heard from a friend of a friend?" Quistis probed.

Jarad merely grinned.

She glared at him.  At least, it had been worth a try.  So news had truly spread.  She'd guessed as much from the soldiers' conversation in the bar.  

_Nothing's for free.  _Suspicious, Seifer repeated Quistis' earlier question.  "What do you want?"  __

"Mutual assistance."  The reply was as expected, logical and deceptively reasonable.                   

***

"Sir, the offer has been made."

"And…?"

***

Quistis looked as if she was pondering over the offer, but her decision was already made.  Balamb Garden had been well, almost everything to her.  Having dedicated her life to SeeD, she hardly expected it to try and kill her.  She was still holding out for a miracle.  Everyone might already consider her a traitor, but she wasn't about to condemn herself further by joining Galbadia.  If nothing else, she was loyal.

Watching her carefully, Seifer knew her answer long before she voiced it.  He knew he could do nothing to change her mind.  

Jarad seemed surprised by her choice.  "You do realise that Garden won't show you any mercy."

"Perhaps."

He continued to stare at her, unable to believe what he was hearing.  "They hate you.  They'll kill you.  You're no longer their child prodigy, their favourite instructor, or a world saviour.  To them, you are a traitor."   

Quistis almost winced at how he brutally enunciated the last four words.  She chose to remain silent.

Smoothly switching gears, Jarad lowered his voice and reasoned, "You've done so much for them already, and look how they've repaid you.  Galbadia appreciates competence and loyalty.  We understand their worth, and you'll find we reward such qualities _very_ generously."          

"No thanks, I remember how _generously _Galbadia rewarded innocence," she replied sarcastically.

"That was a long time ago," he retorted defensively.  

"Not long enough I'm afraid.  I repeat, no thanks."                      

***

"The offer was declined, sir."

"Acknowledged.  It was expected.  Trepe is loyal after all."       

***

"My superiors will be disappointed, but the offer remains open.  Just contact us if you change your mind," Jarad stated clearly, gazing evenly at both Seifer and Quistis.  Placing one foot on the corpse that housed his sword, he gripped the hilt with one hand and sickeningly wrenched the blade out.  Its sides were caked with dried blood and entrails.  Disgusted, he wiped it on the thug's rags before sheathing it.  Then, he spun neatly on his heel and strode towards the alley entrance.   He paused there just long enough to cry over his shoulder, "Don't wait too long.  I heard Balamb sent its best after you.  Take care.  Oh, and it was nice to see you again, Almasy."          

They watched him disappear around the corner.  

"Shit.  We need to leave this alley before someone else walks in," Seifer growled.  "Everyone seems to know where we are these days."

"Could be because you tell them," Quistis' voice was colder than ice, absolute zero in temperature.  

"You think I betrayed you?  Fuck, how many times do we have to go through this?  Why would I want to?"

She didn't seem convinced.  "So you can run back to your old friends."  

Seifer wanted to bash his head against the wall in frustration.  "You seriously have issues, Trepe."      

"It beats being dead."

He grimaced.  There was no reply to be made to that.

Quistis arched an eyebrow, "Speechless Seifer?  You're slipping."

Seifer scowled, and muttered something under his breath. 

Enjoying this rare sense of control, no matter how temporary, she leant closer to him and asked, "What was that?"

"I wish I actually remembered Jarad," he bit out.  

"Don't be a fool, that's probably not even his real name," she laughed harshly.  "And why would you want to?" 

Seifer stared at the bodies strewn around his feet, silent for a moment.  He desperately wanted to believe that something good had come out of his past.  With Quistis there to remind him constantly of his past treachery, there was no such luck.  He looked up at her, his face a blank.  "Quistis?"

"Yes?" 

"Stop being such a bitch," he turned and stalked out of the alley.

She stood there, gazing after him…and smiled sadly.        

A/N: Ever had the feeling where you know where you want to be, but don't know how to get there?  Sorry, just a random thought that came up.


	9. Simple Diversions

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Potion: 100 gil.  Tent: 500 gil.  One-way ticket to the Island Closest to Hell: 10,000 gil.  Your expression when you find out that's what you got for a birthday present…  Priceless…  There are some things money can't buy.  For everything else, there's SQUARESOFT.  ("Cut!  Cut!  What the hell?  This is a MASTERCARD commercial.  Take 5!")                       

A/N: I'm sorry for the extreme delay in chapter updates.  I went overseas for a couple of months and then my first year at uni just started.  Don't really know whether I should be satisfied with this chapter though, but here it is.                

Lest We Forget

Chapter 9: Simple Diversions 

"It's not always a walk in the park."

The music swirled around the darkened room, reverberating from the walls, leaving a desolate void in its wake.  Each note betrayed emotions so raw and vibrant, that the music breathed life and passion into what was simply a mass build up of sound, a steep crescendo, sustaining it until its very end…an abrupt end, an unnatural death.  Not even an echo mourned its loss. 

He waited impatiently for the lights to come back on.  When they didn't, he crept closer to the seat in the middle of the room.  Its back faced towards him.

"Sir…" he hazarded.

A gloved hand, barely visible in the darkness, motioned for silence.        

At the very edge of hearing, a haunting melody picked up, slowly taking its time as though it would fade at the slightest disturbance.  Initially faint and somewhat suppressed, time strengthened it, and it grew to include other voices, other instruments.  The crescendo started again.  

And without warning, the lights flared on.  

He almost cried out in surprise.

After a while, long enough to ensure that the music had truly stopped, he again tried to speak.  This time though, he wasn't interrupted.  "Sir, five SeeDs arrived here last night by train, at approximately twenty three hundred hours.  They checked into a nearby motel.  Surveillance squads have already been installed in the neighbouring rooms."    

"Recall surveillance."

"Yes sir."  Too well trained to argue, he left to carry out his orders.

The lights dimmed, once again shrouding everything in darkness.   

"You didn't ask about the music."  The voice was but a murmur in the empty room.       

***

"What do you mean 'he wants us removed'?  Doesn't he know how important this information is?"

There was a pause as the person on the other end of the line replied.

"ARGH!"  It was hard pressed to tell which was louder, the shout of frustration or the sound of the phone being slammed down.

She paced angrily up and down the room, constantly fighting the urge to unleash her fury on the assortment of electronic equipment set up around her.  They had already established a direct pipe feed from the next room.  Truth to say, it wasn't the most exciting job, but sometimes there were real gems…such as this one.  Movement on the nearest monitor screen caught her eye, and she watched as the brunette man (she believed his name was Squall) pointed at a pair of maps spread out on a rickety looking coffee table.  Squinting, she made one out to be a map of the city, and the other of the sewer system.  The other SeeDs – two men and two women - looked on attentively.  Quickly diving into her seat, she frantically shoved on a pair of headphones that were previously lying forgotten on the desk.  A burst of static, briefly punctuated by voices, filled her ears.  

"…Herd them down there, and then cut them off at the dead end."                    

Damn it!  She appeared to have caught just the very end of their briefing.  Removing the headset, she leaned back on her chair and scowled darkly as the SeeDs hurriedly left the room.  If that idiot from headquarters hadn't called, she would have found out a lot more.  Now, their efforts to recruit Trepe and Almasy could quite possibly be jeopardised.  Since her superiors had backed down, there was only one person she could think of that was in any position to interfere with SeeD activities.  Not that she was particularly looking forward to talking to a man with his sort of reputation.  She reached for the phone.  Hyne, they always said she lacked initiative.                

***

The scene before him closely resembled that of a corny romance movie, the sort people would never admit to watching.  It had the solid features of a show all set to make you laugh, then cry: the good-looking mains, the picturesque settings, the tension in the air, albeit the wrong type.  The only problem was that both leads didn't seem to be talking to each other.  You could even go so far as to say that they were ignoring one another.  

Jarad watched as they sat on a bench not far from him.  They were only on the other side of the pond, but an ocean might as well have separated them, if trouble, or in this case SeeD, decided to rear its ugly head.  And he'd just been warned that there was to be a scheduled appearance shortly.  As far as he was concerned, he would rather Trepe and Almasy weren't in such a public area, although their reasons were not entirely lost on him.  It was sometimes better to be out in the open.  It made it harder to be trapped.

He tugged on the brim of his fisherman's hat, pulling it down lower to cover his face.  A crumpled paper bag was cradled in the other hand.  Digging deep into it, he dragged a fist full of breadcrumbs back out, and scattered them on the surface of the water.  There was no delight to be found in watching the ducks squabble with each other to get to them though; he'd seen enough infighting occur closer to home.  This was just another cover, and like always, he played his role to perfection.  It was to his credit that no one had identified him yet.  You could only pretend to be someone else for so long…pretend to be normal, just for a little while.

Glancing around, he scanned the area for any potential threats.  The park was neither crowded nor empty at this time of day, and people occasionally wandered through its wrought metal gates, desiring a peaceful stroll.  His gaze wandered the pathways, tracing the hypnotic lines of grey that marred the curving greens.  Idyllic, tranquil, the park's atmosphere sought to lull him into a state of complacency, making it all the harder to stay alert.  

Drifting, his eyes locked on a young dark-haired woman in blue standing near the front gate.  A dog sat at her heels.  She was pretty in her own way, but there was something about her that…__

_Shit!_

Recognition struck.  His breath caught in his chest, and he had to force himself to breathe.  Blood pounded in his ears - the drum roll before a firing squad.  It was only through experience that he didn't stand up in shock.  He scanned the park again, frantically this time.  Near one side exit, a blonde man with a black facial tattoo lounged around.  From the way he held himself he was definitely military.  At the other side, a brown haired woman waited, young, but also assuredly military.  He didn't bother to check the back gate.    __

_Shit!  Shit!  Shit!_

SeeD was here.  He'd been slack.  For all his experience, he'd been bloody useless.  And the worst thing was that Trepe and Almasy didn't seem to have noticed their arrival yet.             

***

"What are we going to do?" Seifer's right hand gripped the hilt of Hyperion tightly beneath his grey trench coat.  He shifted his weight, ready to spring up from the bench.   

"Make a break for it.  They wouldn't dare fight us here."  Her voice was calm despite the stress.  

He glanced at her, and then looked quickly around the park.  "All the exits are covered.  Wait…the back gate seems clear."

"It's part of the trap.  They're trying to herd us somewhere quiet."  Quistis glared at her former friends, who were now cautiously moving towards them.  "Standard SeeD procedure.  I taught them that." 

"Well, we're already in trouble.  Might as well take our chances outside."  He was expecting her to argue, but surprisingly she just nodded.

"Ready?"

"Wait, we need a diversion."                 

***

The grass on the other side of the pond suddenly erupted into flames, a sheer wall of fire that blocked Trepe and Almasy from sight.  From where he sat, Jarad could feel its scorching heat.  Panic spread throughout the park, quicker than the wildfire.  The air was rapidly filling up with smoke and ash.  People were running towards the exits, screaming, crying, and choking, pushing to get out.  Through the haze and licking flames, he thought he saw a pair of indistinct figures run towards the back exit, mere silhouettes in the smoke.  The SeeDs were now moving to chase after them though.  There was only one thing he could do to help the fugitives, and that was buy them more time.  He stood up and walked towards the closest SeeD, the brown haired woman, interposing himself between them and her.  As he neared her, he quickly reached into his brown paper bag once more, this time touching cold metal.  His hand closed around the hilt of the revolver hidden beneath the breadcrumbs.          

***

A flock of birds took flight when the gunshot rang out, the rapid beating of their wings almost drowning out the other sounds of pandemonium.  For a moment, Quistis thought Irvine had found them, but when the ringing in their ears finally cleared, they heard voices shouting in the distance.  They didn't have the time or energy to spare a glance behind them, as they wove their way towards the unguarded gate.  Someone was still chasing after them, and that person didn't sound too far behind.  They reached the exit, unable to pause for breath, and continued to run out onto the deserted street, the air exploding from their lungs in shallow pants.  Quistis searched desperately for a taxi or any sort of vehicle they could commandeer, but there were none.  They wouldn't be able to run forever and the road stretched out straight in front of them, only turning off into a single side alley on the left.  Already she could feel her legs aching despite the adrenalin.  Seifer seemed to share her thoughts, because he suddenly ran into the alley and stopped.  She had no choice but to follow.  

"What are you doing?"  The question came out in short bursts as she gasped for air.  "We'll be trapped here."

"If we stayed out there, we'll have to fight them later anyway.  Might as well do it where they can't surround us."  His logic was flawed, but there was no time for her to argue.  Besides, she too was tired of running.  

At the moment, SeeD apparently wanted to take them alive.  That was the only reason Quistis could come up with for Irvine not having shot them already, and why everyone had gone to all this trouble to trap them.  The problem was that she didn't know how long this attitude would last.  Out on the street, the footsteps were getting louder.  They could hear more than one pair now.  Quistis looked wildly around the alley, her gaze darting everywhere, searching for anything to help them.  Hyne, recently they always seemed to find themselves in these places.  She glanced at Seifer again, and then at his feet.  Next to him was a manhole leading to the city sewers.  Their pursuers were closing in on them.  There was no way they would be able to take on more than two opponents, especially since Seifer had no spells, not to mention the fact that these were the SeeDs who beat Ultimecia.  Only one thing to do then.

"Help me lift the sewer cover," she ordered, already moving towards it.

He grunted and took hold of the other end.  Straining, they managed to slide it to one side, baring open the top few rungs of a ladder.  Quistis' nose wrinkled at the smell that wafted up from deep within the bowels of the city.  

"Anything I should know before going down there?" Seifer smirked as he gestured towards the hole.  

Quistis stared at him in disbelief.  They were about to be captured, their pursuers mere metres away, and here he was…  She snapped off a sarcastic reply before swinging herself down onto the ladder and disappearing into the darkness.  "Shit happens.  Don't worry, you'll feel right at home."

"Damn," he followed after her, pulling the cover close just as someone appeared from around the corner.

***

Squall gazed down at the pitted grey surface of the sewer cover, as it glowed a dull red.  Blistering and warping under the effects of a fira spell, it would be impossible to move by hand now.  Quistis had fused it into the ground, sealing their entrance after them to prevent further pursuit.  Expressionless, his face betrayed nothing, giving no hint of the mixed emotions that raged beneath.  Zell stood a little behind him.  

"How's Selphie?"

"She's okay.  The jerk got away though," Zell shifted uncomfortably.  

"Forget about him.  We've got a mission to finish," Squall turned and stalked out of the alley.  

A/N: I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's kept with this story, despite its flaws and the fact that it took so long to be updated.  Thank you, you all possess a thousand times more patience than I will ever have.        


End file.
